Day 10 - Tears and memories
It's done. Ten laps of the lake completed. I still can't quite believe something that has been a massive focus in my life for the best part of a year is over.
Our last day was very different to the previous nine. Regular morning rituals were thrown into disarray as we had to be ready for action in the main hall by 8.45am. Three of the student physios, including my buddy Joe, had bravely decided to run the main marathon (off virtually no training I might add) though they had to set off at 8.00am, which meant I needed to be down there for treatment an hour earlier than usual. As a result I had to rush breakfast and gather my belongings.
On the walk down to the Athletes' Room I bumped into Jim, who said he wouldn't be able to hang around long after the finish. We gave each other a hug with tears in our eyes. Little did I know this would be the first of countless such occasions during the day.
Joe was running a little late, understandably feeling some pre-race nerves and making his last minute preparations. The night before I'd lent him my spare Garmin to help with his pacing and a waist pack for his gels. We shared a bit of banter in the treatment room as he worked on my still sore left calf. I was fast-tracked through physio so I could walk down to the start line with Joe, Matt and Michael and see them off. On yet another bright and sunny morning I filmed them all getting steadily and safely underway then ventured back up the drive to make my final race preparations.
Duncan and George had opted to set off a couple of hours before the rest of us to hopefully ensure they would be back in time for the 3pm presentation. By this stage a good number of runners were suffering varying degrees of overuse or acute injuries; the sheer grit, determination and mental strength these guys showed to battle through some very long and tough days was humbling to witness.
We gathered nervously in the bar as a lot of supporters and main marathon runners amassed on the lawn outside. We had to walk out, almost like gladiators heading into battle, in race number order so I led the way. Emerging from the main door, Adam there to shake our hands, we were greeted by rapturous applause, one of many special moments to come on our last day.
Eventually we were all out in the open and, after plenty of hugs and handshakes, arranged ourselves in circle at the finish line, arms around each other. Twenty runners united as one tightly bound group – we were all in this together. After first witnessing this special moment for the 10in10ers on 2009, it was incredible to finally be part of it myself.
On another change to our regular routine we started from half way down the drive rather than the road. As closures were in place for the first four miles we could safely run out into the road, although we were still set off individually. My calf was actually feeling okay by now so I'd decided to try and stick to a 3h 25m pace for as long as I could. For the first time over our ten days I was first out of the blocks and it felt good to get going again. The spectators gave us a great send-off, though after the first corner it was back to running alone on largely quiet roads.
Intentionally or otherwise, we had started earlier than usual around 9.20am; combined with my increased pace this meant I hit Hawkshead around 12 minutes earlier than expected. Joanne and the kids obviously didn't know this and weren't there by the time I reached the village, however fellow Humbug, Sean Cole, was there to see me running through.
I high-fived the school children's sign again and soon after grabbed my first bottle and gel from box number 2. Although it was cooler than Saturday, I was working harder and already sweating quite profusely, so it was essential I kept drinking little and often, each bottle needed to last me the full four or so miles between my drop boxes.
I cast a glance over my shoulder around six miles in and, despite yet again saying he wasn't going to push too hard or try to race, Jonathan "Suicide" Carter was probably only 30 seconds behind me! I knew he would likely walk up Devil's Gallop so rather than speed up I just stuck to my pace and ran all the way – this was enough to open up a gap beyond the limits of visibility.
Box 4 and the third-way point came and went. My legs were still feeling good and I had a decent descent towards Lakeside. This is the loveliest part of the course for me from around miles 7 to 13 – lots of twists and turns, ever-changing views, charming buildings and the fullness of nature all around. Sean's family were once again supporting just past the Lakeside Hotel.
On cue I was down to my last drop of electrolyte drink as I approached box 6 for replenishment. Aly had briefly driven past a little earlier in her own car (the Brathay-branded Audi Q5 having been commandeered for the main marathon) and when I reached the drop box at mile 12 there was a solitary bottle standing on top – mine. I immediately saw a note rolled up in the elastic band with my gel. I unfurled and read it. It was a simple message from Aly thanking me for my fundraising which would help inspire young people. That was all it took. Tears welled up as I pushed hard back down the road, emotion-fuelled adrenaline kicking in.
It took me the best part of two miles to pull myself together by finally laughing that this could well be mistaken for another act of race sabotage. Clearly it was just a loving and thoughtful gesture though, which made it all the more meaningful.
I was now on the home stretch running along the Rollercoaster for the last time. The road was closed to traffic on the northbound lane so I could avoid the frequently bumpy and uneven left-hand verge for once. This did mean there was less support on the course though, and at times it was quite lonely. It was also starting to warm up again and I was sweating buckets, although physically feeling pretty good and maintaining pace.
Around 15 miles in I spotted Duncan who was moving surprisingly well up an incline ahead. As I drew alongside I told him he was steaming along and to keep on pushing. I pulled away and he shouted how it had been good to run with me even for just a moment; he is such a strong guy and thoroughly proved himself over the tough course over the ten days.
The main marathon drinks stations were all set up and manned along the route. The marshals in attendance were generally friendly and supportive, probably wondering who this guy "in the lead" was! Some offered drinks and whatever nibbles they had but I pressed on, sticking with my tried and tested drop box routine.
I grabbed my gel and drink from box 10 and pounded down into Bowness. Past 10in10ers Kaz and Kevin were there and beyond I could hear the Team TAC cowbells calling! Alison and Paul Rosthorn were again supporting here and I stopped give them both a sweaty hug (sorry guys!) then sped up the hill and through the "Bowness Maze".
On the long stretch towards Ice Cream Mountain a runner gradually came into view as I got nearer. At first I thought it was Joe and he could only be here if he'd hit the wall, but as I approached I saw it was George. Despite his torn muscle he'd seemingly flown around! I came up beside him and asked him how on earth he'd managed to get this far (around 21 miles) so soon. Apparently he'd hit the "magical" nine mile mark and somehow got into a jog for the next ten miles. Seriously impressive stuff!
I climbed Ice Cream Mountain for the tenth time where Mac was on hand to pass me my bottle. I told him George wasn't far behind and he said he'd been getting worried that he might have been the first back! As I continued in the increasing heat and humidity, Mac phoned ahead to report to the crowds at the finish line that I had just gone by. Only five miles to go.
Pushing as hard as I could with the increase in beeps and shouts of support from passing cars, I was soon at the White Cross Bay bus stop which now sported a yellow sign declaring this was 22.5 miles and #FinishForMatt. I tapped it and pressed onward, my thoughts with him and the Campbell family.
I drained my final bottle and left it next to box 12, steeling myself for last few miles. Off the pavement and along the edge of the road I reached Low Wood with its spectacular view across the lake to Brathay. A wave of emotion took me completely by surprise as I looked over the bay. Rather than thinking the finish was in sight, I had an overwhelming feeling that I was running home – I've never felt anything quite like it and the tears flowed yet again as I made my way towards Ambleside.
Down into Waterhead I was greeted by a group of Trawden supporters – Lynne, Paul, Linda, Vanessa, Tracy and Darren – complete with cowbells. I gave them all a high-five as I swept by. Past the rugby club and over the wooden bridge, I tickled the otter's tummy for the last time, now into the final mile. There were so many pedestrians on the footpath I had to run down the road till I reached Clappersgate where another spotter saw me coming and called the finish line to let them know I was almost home.
As I turned up the drive I saw my son Daniel alone at the top, furiously waving his arms at me. I plugged steadily away up the hill to save something for the finish. I reached Daniel and asked him to run alongside me to the line, then just up ahead I saw my wife Joanne too. They flanked me as I turned the final corner to see what looked like hundreds of people all over the lawn, clapping and cheering as I swung into view.
I grasped Joanne and Daniel's hands and we ran down the finishing straight to cross the line together, a moment I will never forget. And neither did I forget the all-important dib in before I could finally relax; a quick glance at my watch and I'd got round in 3:22:52 – so much for consistency!
Before I knew it everyone was heaping medals on me: my little girl Jessica, Daniel, Joanne, my Dad and sister Laura. I hugged everyone then spotted Aly and embraced her – her note had really helped push me along today and the waterworks were well and truly in flow by now. Then I spotted Joe, who had an immense debut run finishing in 4h 30m, he was already crying too and we gave each other huge hug.
I tried to take it all in but it was so overwhelming. Cameras and applauding people seemed to be all over the place. I took off my sweat-drenched cap and picked up a bottle of water then saw all the other support crew. Sandra "Huggy Wuggy" Wade gave me one of her special hugs, Chris Heaton a handshake, the other physios were all there as I headed out of the finishing pen. Supporting clubmates started to stream in to offer congratulations.
With virtually no expectations I'd had about as perfect a ten days as I could ever wish for. Although inevitably physically demanding, the marathons had gone well: I'd escaped injuries, especially compared to some of my fellow 10in10ers; the support crew had been absolutely awesome; I'd shared so much with so many people who I now consider good friends; and at the end of the day my family and many running pals were there for me.
I had to walk away for a few minutes, gazing over the lake which will always mean so much to me, trying to take everything in and compose myself.
The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur but many more tears of joy were shed as I cheered in, congratulated and embraced my new Brathay family, each one crossing the line in jubilation. And I was filled with pride at the 22 Humbugs who had pulled out all the stops to run a tough course on a hot and humid day, the majority of them for the first time at Windermere, some completing their first ever marathon.
The night of celebration was wonderful. We all shared an Indian banquet with wine flowing and abundant votes of thanks, including words from Brathay Chief Exec Godfrey Owen, Joss Naylor and the inimitable Davey Green. Afterwards my kids wouldn't leave physio Joe alone and they now think of him as a member of the family! Yet inevitably tiredness kicked in back up at Shackleton, despite Linda's best efforts to keep me awake sharing a bottle of white wine.
After a cooked breakfast it was time for us to go our separate ways. It was another absolutely scorching day and strangely not filled with too much emotion. There were hugs and laughs but few tears. It's as though we all now know Brathay is somewhere we belong, consider home and must surely visit often.
As I waited for Joanne and the kids to collect me, I took a stroll down to the lake. I may have completed ten laps but as yet hadn't touched the surface. I gazed in reflection over the glistening water for a few minutes before heading back up to the hall to collect my things.
I left Brathay not so much with a heavy heart but a sense of serenity and accomplishment. I feel as though I have left a little piece of myself there but brought home with me so much more...
Our last day was very different to the previous nine. Regular morning rituals were thrown into disarray as we had to be ready for action in the main hall by 8.45am. Three of the student physios, including my buddy Joe, had bravely decided to run the main marathon (off virtually no training I might add) though they had to set off at 8.00am, which meant I needed to be down there for treatment an hour earlier than usual. As a result I had to rush breakfast and gather my belongings.
On the walk down to the Athletes' Room I bumped into Jim, who said he wouldn't be able to hang around long after the finish. We gave each other a hug with tears in our eyes. Little did I know this would be the first of countless such occasions during the day.
Joe was running a little late, understandably feeling some pre-race nerves and making his last minute preparations. The night before I'd lent him my spare Garmin to help with his pacing and a waist pack for his gels. We shared a bit of banter in the treatment room as he worked on my still sore left calf. I was fast-tracked through physio so I could walk down to the start line with Joe, Matt and Michael and see them off. On yet another bright and sunny morning I filmed them all getting steadily and safely underway then ventured back up the drive to make my final race preparations.
Duncan and George had opted to set off a couple of hours before the rest of us to hopefully ensure they would be back in time for the 3pm presentation. By this stage a good number of runners were suffering varying degrees of overuse or acute injuries; the sheer grit, determination and mental strength these guys showed to battle through some very long and tough days was humbling to witness.
We gathered nervously in the bar as a lot of supporters and main marathon runners amassed on the lawn outside. We had to walk out, almost like gladiators heading into battle, in race number order so I led the way. Emerging from the main door, Adam there to shake our hands, we were greeted by rapturous applause, one of many special moments to come on our last day.
Eventually we were all out in the open and, after plenty of hugs and handshakes, arranged ourselves in circle at the finish line, arms around each other. Twenty runners united as one tightly bound group – we were all in this together. After first witnessing this special moment for the 10in10ers on 2009, it was incredible to finally be part of it myself.
Rexy read aloud a very appropriate and moving poem – I don't think there was a dry eye among us by the time he finished – then we all clapped and cheered and made our way down the drive. Several Trawden AC club mates were there early to see me off including Elaine, Liz and Matt, Adrian, David and Gillian – once again it was great to see some familiar faces.
On another change to our regular routine we started from half way down the drive rather than the road. As closures were in place for the first four miles we could safely run out into the road, although we were still set off individually. My calf was actually feeling okay by now so I'd decided to try and stick to a 3h 25m pace for as long as I could. For the first time over our ten days I was first out of the blocks and it felt good to get going again. The spectators gave us a great send-off, though after the first corner it was back to running alone on largely quiet roads.
Intentionally or otherwise, we had started earlier than usual around 9.20am; combined with my increased pace this meant I hit Hawkshead around 12 minutes earlier than expected. Joanne and the kids obviously didn't know this and weren't there by the time I reached the village, however fellow Humbug, Sean Cole, was there to see me running through.
I high-fived the school children's sign again and soon after grabbed my first bottle and gel from box number 2. Although it was cooler than Saturday, I was working harder and already sweating quite profusely, so it was essential I kept drinking little and often, each bottle needed to last me the full four or so miles between my drop boxes.
I cast a glance over my shoulder around six miles in and, despite yet again saying he wasn't going to push too hard or try to race, Jonathan "Suicide" Carter was probably only 30 seconds behind me! I knew he would likely walk up Devil's Gallop so rather than speed up I just stuck to my pace and ran all the way – this was enough to open up a gap beyond the limits of visibility.
Box 4 and the third-way point came and went. My legs were still feeling good and I had a decent descent towards Lakeside. This is the loveliest part of the course for me from around miles 7 to 13 – lots of twists and turns, ever-changing views, charming buildings and the fullness of nature all around. Sean's family were once again supporting just past the Lakeside Hotel.
On cue I was down to my last drop of electrolyte drink as I approached box 6 for replenishment. Aly had briefly driven past a little earlier in her own car (the Brathay-branded Audi Q5 having been commandeered for the main marathon) and when I reached the drop box at mile 12 there was a solitary bottle standing on top – mine. I immediately saw a note rolled up in the elastic band with my gel. I unfurled and read it. It was a simple message from Aly thanking me for my fundraising which would help inspire young people. That was all it took. Tears welled up as I pushed hard back down the road, emotion-fuelled adrenaline kicking in.
It took me the best part of two miles to pull myself together by finally laughing that this could well be mistaken for another act of race sabotage. Clearly it was just a loving and thoughtful gesture though, which made it all the more meaningful.
I was now on the home stretch running along the Rollercoaster for the last time. The road was closed to traffic on the northbound lane so I could avoid the frequently bumpy and uneven left-hand verge for once. This did mean there was less support on the course though, and at times it was quite lonely. It was also starting to warm up again and I was sweating buckets, although physically feeling pretty good and maintaining pace.
Around 15 miles in I spotted Duncan who was moving surprisingly well up an incline ahead. As I drew alongside I told him he was steaming along and to keep on pushing. I pulled away and he shouted how it had been good to run with me even for just a moment; he is such a strong guy and thoroughly proved himself over the tough course over the ten days.
The main marathon drinks stations were all set up and manned along the route. The marshals in attendance were generally friendly and supportive, probably wondering who this guy "in the lead" was! Some offered drinks and whatever nibbles they had but I pressed on, sticking with my tried and tested drop box routine.
I grabbed my gel and drink from box 10 and pounded down into Bowness. Past 10in10ers Kaz and Kevin were there and beyond I could hear the Team TAC cowbells calling! Alison and Paul Rosthorn were again supporting here and I stopped give them both a sweaty hug (sorry guys!) then sped up the hill and through the "Bowness Maze".
On the long stretch towards Ice Cream Mountain a runner gradually came into view as I got nearer. At first I thought it was Joe and he could only be here if he'd hit the wall, but as I approached I saw it was George. Despite his torn muscle he'd seemingly flown around! I came up beside him and asked him how on earth he'd managed to get this far (around 21 miles) so soon. Apparently he'd hit the "magical" nine mile mark and somehow got into a jog for the next ten miles. Seriously impressive stuff!
I climbed Ice Cream Mountain for the tenth time where Mac was on hand to pass me my bottle. I told him George wasn't far behind and he said he'd been getting worried that he might have been the first back! As I continued in the increasing heat and humidity, Mac phoned ahead to report to the crowds at the finish line that I had just gone by. Only five miles to go.
Pushing as hard as I could with the increase in beeps and shouts of support from passing cars, I was soon at the White Cross Bay bus stop which now sported a yellow sign declaring this was 22.5 miles and #FinishForMatt. I tapped it and pressed onward, my thoughts with him and the Campbell family.
I drained my final bottle and left it next to box 12, steeling myself for last few miles. Off the pavement and along the edge of the road I reached Low Wood with its spectacular view across the lake to Brathay. A wave of emotion took me completely by surprise as I looked over the bay. Rather than thinking the finish was in sight, I had an overwhelming feeling that I was running home – I've never felt anything quite like it and the tears flowed yet again as I made my way towards Ambleside.
Down into Waterhead I was greeted by a group of Trawden supporters – Lynne, Paul, Linda, Vanessa, Tracy and Darren – complete with cowbells. I gave them all a high-five as I swept by. Past the rugby club and over the wooden bridge, I tickled the otter's tummy for the last time, now into the final mile. There were so many pedestrians on the footpath I had to run down the road till I reached Clappersgate where another spotter saw me coming and called the finish line to let them know I was almost home.
As I turned up the drive I saw my son Daniel alone at the top, furiously waving his arms at me. I plugged steadily away up the hill to save something for the finish. I reached Daniel and asked him to run alongside me to the line, then just up ahead I saw my wife Joanne too. They flanked me as I turned the final corner to see what looked like hundreds of people all over the lawn, clapping and cheering as I swung into view.
I grasped Joanne and Daniel's hands and we ran down the finishing straight to cross the line together, a moment I will never forget. And neither did I forget the all-important dib in before I could finally relax; a quick glance at my watch and I'd got round in 3:22:52 – so much for consistency!
Before I knew it everyone was heaping medals on me: my little girl Jessica, Daniel, Joanne, my Dad and sister Laura. I hugged everyone then spotted Aly and embraced her – her note had really helped push me along today and the waterworks were well and truly in flow by now. Then I spotted Joe, who had an immense debut run finishing in 4h 30m, he was already crying too and we gave each other huge hug.
I tried to take it all in but it was so overwhelming. Cameras and applauding people seemed to be all over the place. I took off my sweat-drenched cap and picked up a bottle of water then saw all the other support crew. Sandra "Huggy Wuggy" Wade gave me one of her special hugs, Chris Heaton a handshake, the other physios were all there as I headed out of the finishing pen. Supporting clubmates started to stream in to offer congratulations.
With virtually no expectations I'd had about as perfect a ten days as I could ever wish for. Although inevitably physically demanding, the marathons had gone well: I'd escaped injuries, especially compared to some of my fellow 10in10ers; the support crew had been absolutely awesome; I'd shared so much with so many people who I now consider good friends; and at the end of the day my family and many running pals were there for me.
I had to walk away for a few minutes, gazing over the lake which will always mean so much to me, trying to take everything in and compose myself.
The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur but many more tears of joy were shed as I cheered in, congratulated and embraced my new Brathay family, each one crossing the line in jubilation. And I was filled with pride at the 22 Humbugs who had pulled out all the stops to run a tough course on a hot and humid day, the majority of them for the first time at Windermere, some completing their first ever marathon.
The night of celebration was wonderful. We all shared an Indian banquet with wine flowing and abundant votes of thanks, including words from Brathay Chief Exec Godfrey Owen, Joss Naylor and the inimitable Davey Green. Afterwards my kids wouldn't leave physio Joe alone and they now think of him as a member of the family! Yet inevitably tiredness kicked in back up at Shackleton, despite Linda's best efforts to keep me awake sharing a bottle of white wine.
After a cooked breakfast it was time for us to go our separate ways. It was another absolutely scorching day and strangely not filled with too much emotion. There were hugs and laughs but few tears. It's as though we all now know Brathay is somewhere we belong, consider home and must surely visit often.
As I waited for Joanne and the kids to collect me, I took a stroll down to the lake. I may have completed ten laps but as yet hadn't touched the surface. I gazed in reflection over the glistening water for a few minutes before heading back up to the hall to collect my things.
I left Brathay not so much with a heavy heart but a sense of serenity and accomplishment. I feel as though I have left a little piece of myself there but brought home with me so much more...
Fantastic, Paul, it really was a pleasure to be with you and to get to run with you even for a second or two just magic. Hopefully, our paths will cross again...
ReplyDeleteHats off to you sir
ReplyDeleteAre you even human?!! What an achievement, we are all very proud of you and your accomplishment