I'm an Olympic Medallist

1) I have run a race in the Olympic Stadium

2) I was given a medal for that race.

If this does not make me an Olympic medallist, I don't know what does. And at least when I do 100 metres along the running track, I've done 4.9 miles before hand, not like that Usain Bolt flash in the pan!

Many months ago I entered a ballot to run in the Olympic Stadium. From 40,000 entrants, myself and 4,999 where chosen.

I met the first chosen others on the tube, when three ladies from up north called out "hello Olympic Runner". They were the Goalden Girls, a group of over 50s who had not run before and were about to do their first marathon. After a fun tube ride with them., I knew it was going to be a great day.

I brought my friends Lyla and Makmid with me, and their new little addition, Amira. We had a bit of a queue but I think meeting at 1130 meant we were missing the worst of it. Amira didn't look very pleased especially as part of the queuing process meant snaking around the Westfield Shopping Mall and then being rushed across a road. Her presence meant we got access to the VIP security lane (also the accessibility lane, which you couldn't fit a wheelchair down) and got through pretty quickly, unlike Makmid who had to remove nearly every item of clothing. The Group 4 Security staff were our first contact with Olympic staff, which is enough to make you shudder, but they had clearly employed lots of people from BME backgrounds who seemed incredibly happy and friendly to mask their evil corporate image. Political rant over.

Once suitably frisked we were in front of the Stadium where every runner started throwing Usain Bolt poses and having photos. It was bitterly cold and windy and I wished for more layers and definitely running gloves! The stadium felt quite small inside and as some of the seating was still being completed, it felt quite empty with only 15,000 people in it.

I went to meet Andy (@noynek) on the start line, trying to figure which bridge corner was near the Aquatic Centre. That's typical engineer directions that! I eventually found him (for twitter interested folk, he looks just like his twitter pic only nicer!) We huddled in a pack of pink people - the last wave to start and full of people with the right attitude - those wanting to take photos, have fun and remember the day - not those necessarily chasing a PB. We huddled in that pack for an awfully long time and had a real laugh trying to do a series of warm up exercises when we couldn't see the instructor and we had no room to move!

When we finally crossed the start line it was carnage as there was so many runners but somehow Andy and I managed to stay together. The route was around the Olympic Park so we managed to see a lot of the buildings, either finished or close to. Andy's company had done some work in this field so I also got to learn a bit about the buildings and work out which was which, thank god for civil engineers!

It was weird that there were no spectators, but a few well placed bands helped keep the mood bouyant. Any workers who were on gate duty came to the side lines and gave us spirited cheers which was sweet. Otherwise we waved hard at trains, walking tours and people outside the Olympic perimeter.

I was surprised how completely unfit I felt, and Andy was springing beside me like a deer. It was really kind of him to run with me as it was a nicer experience for grinning at someone! When we got back to the Olympic stadium, we went into the entrance but instead of running straight onto the track as I thought, we went through an industrial tunnel inside the stadium. This was great because you had seen a glimpse of inside the stadium and were all excited, but had suspense as you ran through the tunnel. To add to it, they played Chariots of Fire in the tunnel and there were workmen standing on blocks alongside cheering and high fiving.

Entering the stadium itself was phenomenal. It was simply like being famous! I noticed in a photo I took just after entering that everyone including myself was waving like a rock star to the crowds. It was compelling! Andy put in a big kick to the finish and I took my snaps waving like crazy down the final 300 metres in the stadium. I finished in 49 minutes, and while wasn't presented with a medal, found one down the bottom of my goody bag.

We had a long queue to get out of the Stadium again, but I was an Olympic medallist by that point, and I didn't care!

Photos

Show me your brass

Many moons ago (ie in the days before the Ultra) Kim and her Hastings crew convinced me to run the Hastings half marathon so I could get the much famous Hastings Brass (so famous though I can't tell you anything about it, and neither can wikipedia).

I didn't give a lot of thought to training as I thought there would be some muscle memory from the Ultra and I'd have done a 5, 10, 15k race each weekend before. But that was the plan in my training diary and not what happened in reality and as my regular 1.5 readers will know, I couldn't do the 15km due to Gambia Foot and so went into Hastings quite unprepared.

The day before I did a wee jog down the lane with Kim and realised I hadn't tested my burns and blisters for chafing but felt like the feet would be the least of my concerns as the race featured some big hills. I could tell that the half marathon was a big deal in town when the local sports shop had a 40 page event brochure in it. Featuring my name in print. I still get a kick out of little things like that!

The race start was down the road from those cute little wooden huts that line British sea sides and set next to a bustling mini expo! I was able to stock up on souvenir tshirts (who doesn't want one featuring King Harold getting an arrow in his eye on the front and their name on the back!?), free samples of Clifbar and more. Being outside London, bags were left on a trust basis, again something I got a kick out of, then it was off to spot some sun to bask in while waiting for the start. The event had provided pace makers for up to 12 minute milers which is really thoughtful so I aligned myself with a 10minute mile pacer due to being out of shape and out of respect for the notorious hills. This start group was full of eccentric entries: a man with his son in a shopping trolley looked the most perilous. A lovely man whose name I have now forgotten gave me lots of great route advice including how to tackle the hills.

I have to say that I felt the hills from the first incline through suburbia and I was really making a lot of effort to keep with the pacer. The pacer was a beautiful young man called Jules with the shiny smooth legs of a triathlete. In fact he was a double ironman. Bow in awe. Because of the heat, Jules made a bit of an error quaffing water ahead of the start and had to take to the bushes, instructing me to hold the pacemaker sign! Me! I'm a pace maker. The runners around me loved it and gave me a cheer and I tried really hard to keep pace as much as possible. It was a very cool moment. I tell you, it's the little things.

I stayed with Jules for about 3 miles as we came into the big hill of Queens Way. Jules was running a constant pace regardless of incline and I couldn't keep up and had to let the pack go. It was gutting. The hill just never stopped and even when the spectators told me it was the last hill, it never was. The crowds were great though - so many of them, super cheerful and true supporters of running. There were countless trays of jellybeans, jelly tots and orange slices provided by people out of kindness.

As well as hilly, the route was a bit tough for lack of water. There were only four water stations and after miles of staring fixated at spectator's personal drinks (and two beers) I had to pick up someone's drink from the road side. I'd seen that done in Prague and figured the runner must've been desperate - now that person was me!

I wasn't the only person struggling on the hills and it was nice that I could chat to others as we slowed to a walk and struggled to a run together. I could see the pace sign on the horizon and while on the flats and downhills I could make some distance, it would elude me again on the hills.

At one point I passed a Pirate and struck up conversation. Meldy was competing in IronMan Lanzarote next year and it sort of came out that I was too. (oh really Rowena?!) She told me that lots of Pirates would be doing it and too look her up. She also chastised me for not making the effort to run with Jules for the eye candy!

After so many hills, you would think I would be really happy to come down through the old town to the waterfront. I was not. It was more exposed in the heat and suddenly everything stopped working. My middle toes cramped along with my forefoot. I had to stop and take off my shoe and stretch it. Meldy passed and called out to check on me. All I wanted to do was finish. I fell in with a man I think called Rob from Macmillan and we walked-ran together. Alongside us (as had been for nearly 6 miles) was the Rye Team boxing club - a group carrying a stretcher full of sand bags and showing amazing team work.

I crossed the line in something like 2:13 with a massive smile on my face. The atmosphere was excellent and while the course was hard, it was truly rewarding. Plus I had my name on a tshirt!

A week later the organisers sent me a copy of the local paper with the event footage and our results printed. I still don't what a Hastings Brass is but I had so much fun I think I'll lead a campaign for Hastings For Capital!

Someone's happy

More Pics of the day

Asics run club

A little post about the Asics run club in case anyone stumbles on this blog and wants to do it - in a nutshell: the people are very friendly and welcoming but it's good for experienced runners too.

It takes place every Monday from the Asics store near Oxford Circus and is led by a very friendly and professional runner called Eric Dol. We were also accompanied by his colleague Vlad. Yes, as in The Impaler, but I am sure he gets that all the time. And he was too nice to be an impaler.

Anyway, another lady joined us and while she said she was a bit slow, she went off quite strong, so Eric ran with her and Vlad kindly plodded along with me. Much nicer than Nike Run Club where you inevitably end up on your alone - especially in the dark, it was great to have company and almost like having a personal trainer! Despite running a 20mile race the day before, Eric and Woman Whose Name I Forget set a bit of distance between us, helped by the fact that I never do my laces up properly. And then can't do them up under pressure. It's like all the angst of being six all over again.

Vlad was nice and chatty and was also good at realising I was going to burst a lung and checked on me from time to time when he sense it was best to go quiet. I definitely went out harder than I normally would have if I was on my own - especially after being on holiday and then having poorly feet. Oh yes, the feet. At first they felt a bit raw but actually I got over that pretty quickly - maybe I was distracted by the pounding of my heart and squeaking of my lungs!

I think we did 5km all up around Regents Park and about (I'm not sure because I didn't wear a sports band! I know, I've been on holiday, what can I say?) before ending up back at the Asics store where you're given a money off voucher!

And it's all free. So just do it. Oh no, it's Nike that say that. And you can chat to Eric about it on twitter here.

DNS

Typically my foot is better by this afternoon - better as in I can now put my foot flat on the floor despite the blisters and walk on it. It feels a bit gross but it's doable.

As a result I will definitely maybe do Asics Run Club tomorrow.

Decisions decisions

I am supposed to be running the Stroke Association 15km run today. I'd love to as it would help me progress to next week's half marathon. But I need to be realistic. I can't plant my right foot flat on the floor without hurting it. I know I could run a different way but that might lead to a proper injury so I am going to have to DNS. This is my first did not start (I was supposed to do Istanbul Marathon but I recovered enough to be able to race the 15km run).

Ho hum. Happens to us all right...

In the meantime, look at some nice photos of The Gambia.

Running in The Gambia

Well let's be honest I didn't really run in the Gambia but it did have an impact on my running! My friend was due to leave the Gambia very soon for a country much harder to travel to (Burma) so I thought best to get on a plane and go visit. I didn't think about the 15km race or the half marathon that awaited me on my return, just of 41 degrees C temperatures, cold beer and maybe some cocktails! I figured I could run on the beach but then forgot to pack my sports bra...

The house I was staying in had a runner and Katie is a long distance cyclist so it should have been a pretty active holiday. Until... the cleaner came round and cleaned everything. And I mean everything. Because West Africa gets Harmattan winds from the Sahara, everything is covered in a fine pink dust. Even after you get out of the shower, minutes later, pink dust. So my thongs (you call them flip flops) were duly cleaned and part of me thought something of it and part of me was too "on holiday mode" to care. I went for a walk and by the time we had finished strolling along the beach to a beautiful hotel restaurant the soles of my feet were burnt blistered and sore from the cleaning chemicals.

Luckily you can buy prescriptions easily in the Gambia and there's plenty of lovely material to wrap my feet in but it did mean a day of just resting. Of course this ended up being the day that work needed me to work in our Gambian office but that's another story.

The flight home, the feet suffered. They inflammed a lot and I relied on all my lovely fabrics to get them home as clean and comfortable as possible. All I could think about was if I was going to run the 15km on Sunday or not...

To tri or not to tri?

That's not the question. Mostly because I generally don't question things. I just agree to do them and then lo and behold I've committed myself. But a lot of questioning of my sanity goes on while I train for said commitments.

Anyway, I'm deciding what actually makes me committed:

• is it the entry fee? That won't be open till May 2012.
• the training, that could start tomorrow
• going to swim school?
• buying a book on Lanzarote?
• buying an "ironman in training" tshirt?
• going to the triathlon show?
• taking the dust cover off the bike?
• looking at who flies to Lanzarote?
• buying a wetsuit?
• entering an open water swim?

You see there are so many moments you could ask yourself if you're committed.