I’ve always had a curious approach to life. I am a complete wimp but when I set my mind to something, I usually see it through – I don’t know if it’s determination, pride or just sheer bloody-mindedness but there is something that kicks in that makes me follow through on what I say. It can get me into trouble at times, like the dayI found myself strapped to a piece of elastic teetering on the edge of the Transporter Bridge….
I first started running 3 or 4 years ago… I did the Race For Life and the Middlesbrough 5km with little to no training and that was that. The following year, I did something similar. In 2013, something clicked and I became a ‘runner’. I started doing a series of winter trail races. The first, Wynyard Woodland Park, was horrific – I was 3rd from last for about half the way round then we hit a bad set of stairs and my chest kicked in. The two people in last place merrily overtook me and left me to roll in a couple of minutes after them in last place.
Undeterred, I turned up for the next couple of trail races plus the intervening parkruns. At one of the trails, at Preston Park, I got chatting to one of the runners who happened to be one of the two who overtook me at the first race… a girl called Rachael. Her dad, Ged, was sporting a top which read ‘Fairfield Harriers’. Living an estate along from Fairfield, I enquired about it and a couple of weeks later, the Fairfield Harriers was born!
6 months later or so, I undertook the Great North Run for a local charity. I felt amazing at the end but had no desire to do anything more. Until a few weeks later when my glitch kicked in and “I WANT TO DO A MARATHON!”…. I figured that I probably would only ever run one marathon so I might as well go big! I’d missed the ballot for London so I looked at the charity options and applied for 2 – Asthma UK as I am asthmatic and one of the breast cancer charities as it was around the time one of my friends had undergone a double mastectomy due to carrying the BCRA1 gene. I was rejected by the Breast Cancer charity but Asthma UK rang me and said they would be delighted If I would run for them.
I remember the phone call – I was at work, and when I went back into the office, I was a bit in shock! I don’t think the enormity of what was to come had hit me!
I’ll skip the fundraising as that is a novel in itself, but in terms of training, it didn’t go to plan! I kept looking at training plans and talking to others who were going through the same challenge and while I tried to keep up, somehow it just didn’t happen! I didn’t make it as far as I wanted in training with my longest run only being 15.5 miles – far off the 20 miles I was aiming for. This knocked my confidence quite a bit knowing that others were so much further on than me!
Anyway, it got to the point where no more could be done and the time to hit the roads arrived! We travelled as a family (Me, Matthew and the two boys) to London on the Friday night and got settled into the hotel.
In contrast to other events, you have to collect your race number with photographic ID and this was done at the ExCeL where there were also a myriad of trade and charity stalls to peruse. Once this task was out of the way and the obligatory photos posed for, it was a quick trip to Hamley’s for the kids then back to spend a relaxing hour or two in the hotel’s spa. We took a stroll to a nearby Italian restaurant for a big bowl of carb-laden pasta for dinner then it was back to the room to relax and prepare!
I didn’t feel massively stressed, but I was awoken around 1:30am to pay a visit to the bathroom with an upset stomach which I think belied my sub-conscious feelings!
Sunday morning dawned wet and overcast – perfect for running a marathon though I felt a little bad for the spectators! The first battle of the day, breakfast, was followed by the task of actually getting to Greenwich Park. The charity, Asthma UK, had asked for as many people as possible to be there for 9am for a pre-race group photo so we carefully planned a route including time for things to go wrong and off we went! On arrival at London Bridge tube station, where we intended getting the underground, we were directed instead to the over-ground to Greenwich. It was manic on the platform and when the train arrived people were running, pushing and shoving to get on the train. I ended up shoving Oliver into a gap and following him on – it was like a scene from a movie with the packed train and the doors unable to shut as my foot was in the way! I spent the journey nose to nose with a pleasant lady with whom I passed the time of day while groping the backside of the fella next to me – Oliver was sandwiched between Shaun the Sheep and his rather masculine looking Bo-Peep.
Matthew had waited with Alex for the next train and delighted in taking a photo of the empty carriage that they travelled in! When we got to Greenwich, Oliver and I followed the crowds and hot-footed it to the prearranged – but very vague – charity meeting point. We eventually found them and sprinted across the grass in time to hear the photographer count “3 2 1 *click*”. I missed it…. After all the hassle, crowds, stress etc., I was approximately 14 seconds too late to be in the group photo. I will admit, I did actually start crying!
During the fundraising, I had been contacted by another runner from the Charity – a guy called Phil from Swindon – and I was finally able to meet him in person which was fab. There are a number of people who have helped me through and he is definitely one of them. He went to get ready and I was left with a frantic wait while Matthew made it on the next train and through the crowds to meet up with me. While stood watching the crowds, I actually saw several people that I knew, which was crazy among the thousands that were there! Eventually Matthew found me and I was able to put Oliver back in his care and make my way to the runners-only assembly area.
Those who know me know that I am the kind of person who will talk to anyone and I very quickly found myself chatting to a lady while we tried to find the portaloos. I have a thing about public-loos and find portaloos to be probably the worst thing about race-days! When preparing for the GNR, I read just a one or two line tip in a magazine which was “take loo roll as they run out”… it saw me through the GNR so I went with similar preparation for London! I had a running belt containing my inhalers, Vaseline, support bandage for my knee, packet of tissues, packet of wet wipes, bottle of hand-sanitising gel and a couple of little bags of Haribo! To my shock, the portaloo had loo roll! Unfortunately, it was the first and only one I saw!
Anyway, with that taken care of and being all alone, I figured I might as well get in the starting pen. I was at the red start in pen 8 so I joined the other nervous looking people and shared some chit-chat with them. I had taken my phone with me but I couldn’t get a signal, I guess due to the high concentration of people also taking pre-race selfies and photos of loo roll and attempting to update Facebook with them! Unfortunately it meant that I missed out on a call from my grandma (who left me a lovely voicemail) and a message from a lovely runner I know, Kerry, about meeting up at the start.
Time passed fairly quickly and soon it was time to go! The race started and we commenced the snail-pace walk towards the start line! Despite repeated messages over the tannoy about leaving clothing etc. at the side, it was a bit of a gauntlet making your way among the binliners, hoodies and bottles! Finally we rounded a corner, hit the start line and were off running! Somewhere off to the right, I guess near the blue and green start lines, were hot air balloons and it felt a bit deflating – if you’ll pardon the pun! – to see that they were being let down, almost as if the runners further back weren’t worthy of the same display that earlier runners had received.
The crowds were there right from the start – at the very beginning I guess they were friends and family of runners but as you got more into the race it was clear that they were local residents who had turned out despite the weather (which was starting to brighten) to support and cheer on the runners. Elderly people sat in deckchairs at the end of their drives, people leaned against garden walls with cuppas and a church around 2 miles in had the congregation stood outside and the priest flicking holy water over the runners as they passed.
Further on was a lovely downhill stretch past a row of town-houses where the residents were out with bottles of bubbly and an amplifier blaring music from one of the windows. It was so lovely to see them embracing the event as I imagine that many must find it an inconvenience with the road closures and increased traffic!
Around the 5km point, the Red runners merge with the Blue and Green runners and then things get serious!
I knew that Matthew and the boys were aiming to be at the first ‘charity cheering point’ around 10km in so was watching out carefully for them. I was devastated when I spotted the Asthma UK group but couldn’t find them. I was passing the group when I heard my name and finally caught a glimpse of them! Spurred on, I kept going.
The crowds very quickly thickened and the first of the famous landmarks on the route came into view. I was just taking in the noise and sights when I was grabbed from behind and heard “Tracey?! Tracey Wright!” …by now, I was used to the sound of my name but obviously most of the people in London don’t know my surname so I spun round to find Helen from Elvet Striders. It was amazing to find a familiar, friendly face! We compared notes and shared a couple of KMs before our paces differed and I was again on my own. Not much further on, I spotted another familiar head in the crown, Kelly from Elvet Striders who Helen had set off with. A little further on, I reached the 10 mile mark and conscious of the distance still ahead I decided to treat myself to a very short walk.
I kept to my plan and was quickly running again, passing Kelly who had passed me while I walked and I soon crossed the iconic London Bridge and hit the halfway point. Around this time, the route runs alongside the runners who are heading in the opposite direction at around the 22 mile point. Some girls ahead of me excitedly pointed out Paula Radcliffe going the other way but I didn’t see so no idea if it was!
The water and Lucozade stands plus toilets and showers come pretty regularly along the route and it occurred to me a short time later that I hadn’t seen a sign for toilets for quite some time. I decided that I would take the next opportunity to have a comfort break – one of my biggest fears is ‘doing a Paula Radcliffe’….! The next loos were around 14.5miles in so I stepped out of the race and joined the queue. This, I fear, was a mistake.
I queued for 20 minutes to use a portaloo which had unmentionable things splattered around and definitely no loo roll. I took the opportunity to check my phone and let Matthew know that I was ok and making progress. I was a bit overwhelmed to see how many people were posting me messages, sharing pictures, tracking me on the website and much more!
Eventually I re-joined the race, cursing the time I had lost. My first half had gone fantastically well, knocking 5 minutes off my previous best time for a half and putting me on track for well under my 5-hour target time. Unfortunately, as soon as I started running again I could tell things weren’t going as well as before. Very quickly after the loo stop, literally round the corner, I found Matthew and the Boys and had to fight the urge to stop for a hug as I probably wouldn’t have got started again! Clearly, I wasn’t expecting to find him there….
By this point, although I don’t remember if before or after the loo stop, I had gone over on my left foot on a dodgy bit of road. It niggled slightly but not enough to bother me but following the loo-stop I could feel my knee flaring up. I was expecting it and had come prepared with a tubi-grip bandage. I stopped at the 15 mile marker to put it on and was offered a jelly baby by the lady I stopped next to.
I don’t….well, didn’t…. like jelly babies but when you are running any distance you will find that foods take on a whole new taste. Had you have asked me at any point during the race or probably over the week following it, I would have cheerfully told you that I could live forever on Jelly Babies and Orange Slices! When I got home, there was a box of jelly babies waiting for me which barely touched the sides!
Anyway, bandage on, I tried to get moving again but felt I was stiffening up, probably due to having cooled down during my loo-break. I was finally getting back into rhythm when I went over on my left foot again, this time as a result of standing on something in the road. The pain was worse than before, but still about tolerable so I pushed on. The crowds got more and more thick and I knew that Matthew and the boys were possibly around the 20 miles mark. A friend had also said that her friends who I have met a couple of times were somewhere around Canary Wharf so when I heard my name above the crowds again, this time on Trafalgar Way, I gave a big wave!
I suspect that the spectators don’t realise the impact that they have on the runners – I know that they are there cheering, motivating, shouting and more but to find that someone who I have only met a couple of times had taken the time out to look out for me and shout me was fab!
Unfortunately, I went over on my foot again – times are getting blurry but I know it was somewhere around 20 miles, and I think before I saw Matthew and the Boys for the final time on the route. This time I felt something twang and the thought of “oh, that isn’t good” passed through my mind. The lovely people from St John’s Ambulance are stationed regularly along the route and it did cross my mind to stop and have it checked or strapped up but I am a stubborn old thing and the thought of them telling me that I couldn’t continue was more than I could bear and I figured that worst case, I could crawl the last 6 miles!
At this point, the crowds started to get a little too much for me – not their fault at all as each and every one of them was amazing for being there and for being supportive, but the constant barrage of noise and my name being called started to become overwhelming. There were times when I had to walk due to my foot and was quite clearly limping yet people were still hollering at me. I know that their intentions were good and I don’t want to knock them at all for it, but for me, I reached the point where I just wanted it all to be over so that the noise would stop and they would leave me alone!
I knew the charity were having a cheering point at 25 miles so I spent my time looking for Matthew and the boys (who, it turned out, weren’t there!) and all of a sudden there is the Big Ben Clock Tower, round the corner and there is Buckingham Palace at the end of a lovely straight road with countdowns in metres…. What, it’s almost over?!
It is exactly how you see it on the TV – you come along a straight stretch, round the corner from Buckingham Palace then it’s a final straight to the finish. As I rounded the corner I squeaked “oh, it’s there!” and then the emotions hit! I made it across the finish line with such a mixture of feelings that I can’t even put most of them into words.
I finished in 5:20:59 – I had hoped for 5 hours but once you take out the 20 minute loo stop, it’s pretty much there and that’s without taking my sore foot into account!
One of the hard things about finishing a big race is that the finishers’ area is usually exclusive to runners so once across the line I was left to wander on my own to collect my medal, be ambushed by money-making photographers and collect my finishers’ goody bag. I had arranged to meet Matthew and the boys at the post-race reception hosted by Asthma UK but despite having looked at a map the night before, I had no idea where I was going! I was approached by a runner wearing the same charity vest who asked if I was going to the reception and suggested we find the way together, for which I was very grateful.
I wanted to ring people – my grandma, dad, mother in law – to let them know I had finished but conversation was beyond me. I knew the minute I spoke to any of them, I would unleash the floodgates! I made do with a couple of brief texts on the way to the reception, then as I rounded the corner of the building I found Matthew and the boys coming the other way. That was it – tears ensued along with the declaration “that was stupid, I am NEVER doing that distance again!”
We went into the venue, the Institute of Directors, and were directed to a room where I could book a massage. Here I found Phil looking equally shell-shocked and tucking into a plate of food! As Matthew had taken photos for the charity, he disappeared off to upload them leaving me to hobble my way around to book my massage, get food and drink and finally make contact with family!
My massage – the first sports massage I’ve ever had – seemed to last ages, which I was not complaining about! The young lad wasn’t big on conversation but he worked his magic on my legs…. Although when I came to get up, I couldn’t walk and told him he had made me worse!
I found Matthew and Phil and his lovely wife Janet, and we stepped outside to share a bottle of bubbly from plastic glasses stood on Pall Mall. A passer-by asked me to take a photo of his group and I jokingly said he had only asked me as he knew I couldn’t run off with his phone!
Soon it was time to return to Teesside via the 18:30 from Kings Cross so I hobbled my way to Piccadilly Circus and onwards to the train. The journey home was a bit surreal – I was tired, sticky, sore yet psyched, overwhelmed and so many more things that I can’t put into words! Matthew surprised me with a bottle of champagne which we shared but it hardly touched the sides and I think it was gone by Peterborough!
The next morning I awoke and had a second of bliss before I tried moving…. EVERYTHING hurt! In addition to the obligatory blister (on the side of my big toe, of all places), I had a very swollen knee, a bruised foot and a graze from my heart-rate monitor. Matthew was concerned about the shape of my foot so took me to the walk-in centre…. Or hobble-in, as was more the case. The nurse told me it was sprained, so to use RICE and 48 hours rest…. Fat chance!
I went to visit my grandma then on to my in-laws’ who surprised me with a Bucks Fizz brunch. On Tuesday I returned to work and was greeted with a round of applause from my colleagues. Wednesday arrived along with a beautiful bouquet delivered by Doug on behalf of the Harriers. On Saturday I went to visit my dad and his girlfriend and they had arranged a cake with a celebratory picture on!
I did attempt parkrun on Saturday, my first trip in my trainers since London but it was too soon. A couple more days rest then I am raring to be back in the Brooks and pounding the pavements!
As much as it was a daunting distance, a ridiculous amount of fundraising and a massive test of my physical, emotional and mental strength, I would totally recommend it to anyone. It was every bit as horrific as I was expecting yet somehow nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. I have felt a bit flat since the big day but I think this is as it was such a big part of my life for 6 months – 6 months of training, of preparation, of fundraising – that now my life feels empty!
I have been totally and utterly overwhelmed by the help, support, motivation and friendship shown during my journey and in the days since. I can’t even begin to thank people properly and I feel I will be forever indebted to so many. If you have read this far, thank you. If you have supported me in any way – financially, motivationally, physically or any other way, thank you.