Around the start of 2020, I decided to get into running a bit more seriously. I looked in the mirror one gloomy January morning and was horrified by the pot-bellied swine looking back at me. The Christmas indulgence had left its mark. My bulging belly was made worse by the fact that my limbs are so weedy. I was an egg on legs, according to my good wife.
I’d noticed my body responding more to my unhealthy phases before. It was creeping in. Up until my mid-twenties I could eat and drink pretty much whatever I wanted and retain my slender physique.
Not any more.
The message was loud and clear – I needed to start looking after my body. I want to remain in good shape partly for the sake of my kids. I want to be able to join in high-energy activities with them and model a healthy active lifestyle.
To ensure I committed to this new path, I signed up for the Leeds Half-Marathon in May 2022 and, in a moment of madness, the Yorkshire Marathon in York in October.
A few days later, and just about walking normally again, I thought I’d recount some of the big moments from the experience.
The lead-up
The Good – Training runs
Three months before the race, I started preparing in earnest. That meant pushing myself to do the long runs.
I was happy with the ones I did – a hilly twelve miler and a flat fifteen miler along the canal. The latter I did in two hours, so based on that I gave myself a target time of 1:40 for the Half.
Alas, that was to be my last proper run for a long time…
The Ugly – injured
Having said on at least three previous occasions that I was done with competitive football because I always get injured, I again got the urge and agreed to help out my mate’s team. Just three days after the fifteen-miler, I felt as fit as ever. I went into the game with a good feeling and played pretty well. I thought I’d get a few more games in before the end of the season. Silly me.
In a pretty innocuous tackle about ten minutes in, I got kicked right on the end of my big toe. Felt fine at first, must have been the adrenaline. But it got much worse over the next couple of weeks, to the point that I could barely walk. Off to A&E I went.
There was no fracture, but there must have been damage to the ligaments and/or tendons as the pain was chronic. I got as far as writing the email to defer the race until the next year, but decided to stick it out. I was able to do 3 or 4 weeks training, but I had to go pretty easy. I thought my target time was well out of the window.
The lesson: listen to your body. It took me far too many football injuries to realise I needed to pack it in. Who knows what long-term effects I’ll suffer from when I’m older?
The Good – fundraising
A few weeks before the race I found out that someone I was working with ran a fantastic charity called Zarach, which provides beds and basics for disadvantaged families in Leeds.
I wasn’t going to bother with fundraising but this sounded like a really worthwhile cause and something close to me after working with underprivileged kids as a teacher. Lots of people donated and it was nice to be able to help out doing something I enjoy.
The Bad – holidays are bad prep for races
In the penultimate week before the race, we went to Butlins on a family trip. Whilst this was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, the evening drinking and regular indulgence in sweet treats meant I didn’t feel in the best shape in the week leading up the race.
The lesson: holidays are not good prep for a race.
The Bad – how do I get there?
I’m a bit of a stress-head when it comes to punctuality. I hate being late. It stems mainly from FOMO and wanting to please people.
Therefore you can imagine my distress as I was researching how to get there and all I found were vague messages from transport companies about ‘some disruption to normal services’.
Thankfully, Amy agreed to drop me off on the outskirts of town, though I had to bear the brunt of her irritation about waking up that early on a Sunday.
The lesson: don’t rely on British public transport.
Race day
The Good – carnival vibes
After Amy kindly deposited me at the side of the road, I enjoyed a refreshing 20-minute walk to the start line at Leeds Town Hall. The place was buzzing with activity, with BBC Radio Leeds presenters whipping up the atmosphere. It was definitely a fun place to be and got you in the mood.
The Bad – my weird hovering
The queues for the toilets at Millennium Square were long. I headed to the back and joined behind a couple of twentysomething women who I thought had also just joined the queue. I stood patiently for a while, checked my donations page and posted an update on Facebook.
I noticed a few women looking oddly at me but thought nothing of it.
I started to get impatient about the lack of movement. I looked around me and noticed some people nearby shuffling along in a ragged line.
I hadn’t joined the toilet queue. I had just stood at the edge of a large group of unknown women for about 5 minutes. That explained the odd looks.
I made an exaggerated, unconvincing attempt to show my bewilderment that I was not actually standing in the queue, in the hope that they’d realise I wasn’t some lingering weirdo.
The lesson: take more heed of what’s going on around you, so as to avoid looking like a weirdo.
The Ugly – my feeble bladder
Naturally, I’d filled up on fluids before the race. This meant I had to make a couple of pre-race visits to the portaloos.
Alas, it did not suffice. Barely a mile in and I could feel the familiar pangs of pee. As I’d read in the race guide that anyone caught urinating anywhere but the loos would be instantly disqualified, I resolved to suffer.
However, on a stretch of road unmanned by stewards, I saw a few blokes veer off into a sparse patch of trees. They were in full view of hundreds of people – I’d have to decide between damaged dignity or damaged internal organs.
I went for it. And I’m glad I did. There were no other places along the route where I could have done it unnoticed by the stewards. It might have cost me a minute, but it enabled me to complete the race without either rupturing my bladder or being disqualified.
The Good – super support
All along the route, people came out in full force to cheer us all on. Along some of the residential streets, families offered oranges and sweets to runners. People clapped us, shouted support and rang bells. It certainly put a smile on my face.
The Good or Bad, depending on how you look at it – challenging route
Most of my runs involve a few hills, so I quite enjoyed the climbs in the half-marathon route. However, maybe I overdid it, as the last few miles were hell. My legs were screaming at me to stop.
I can see why some people don’t fancy the Leeds Half as the climbs are tough. I’ll definitely know what to expect next year though.
The Bad – budget footwear, busted feet
I was wearing some basic, everyday ‘running’ trainers I got for my birthday a couple of years before. Ideal for the casual runner doing a few miles a week, which I was at the time. Totally inadequate for serious slogs.
By about three-quarters of the way, my feet were on fire. As I sat on the Town Hall steps after the race and took my trainers off, my fifth metatarsals (the long bones along the outside of your feet) were throbbing due to the lack of cushioning on impact.
The benefits of investing in proper running shoes are clear, and I’ll definitely be doing so when I start my marathon training.
The lesson: if you want to take up a sport seriously, you need to invest in proper gear.
The Good – I’ve set the bar high
I wasn’t expecting to do particularly well. I’d said I’d be happy with anything under 2 hours due to missing out on a big chink of training.
I spent the first few miles in a cluster surrounding the 1:40 pacesetter, expecting to cling on as long as I could before dropping off. However, to my surprise, I powered up the main climb and managed to maintain a lead over him.
As the race went on, I realised I could be on for a good time. But I could feel my body gradually starting to protest.
I pushed through the pain for the last few miles and put in a torturous sprint finish and managed to get a very respectable time of 1:37 flat.
Post-race
The Bad – the bonk
No, I didn’t get down and dirty immediately after the race. In running circles, The ‘bonk’ is a slang word for hitting the wall.
It happens when your muscle glycogen stores are depleted. Symptoms include muscle fatigue, nausea, dizziness and confusion.
Whilst my legs felt like lead after 9 miles or so, I don’t think I was bonking until I crossed the finish line – after my ill-advised sprint finish. That’s when my vision started going blurry and my legs went all weak.
In my daze, I walked hundreds of yards in the wrong direction and spent a minute trying to convince a bewildered baggage marshal that I had dropped off my bag at their station.
The lesson: if you’re going to push yourself to get PB’s, you’re going to bonk occasionally.
The Good – freebies
I always see plenty of runners out and about wearing those ‘race finisher’ shirts, but I always assumed you had to pay for those. I was pleasantly surprised to be presented with a nice medal and a goodie bag containing some delicious snacks and a surprisingly high-quality running shirt after I crossed the finish line.
The Bad – train home delayed
The lesson: don’t rely on British public transport
The Good – a family walk to recover
I finally stepped off the jam-packed Leeds to Manchester Victoria train at my station (I didn’t realise there were so many Man City fans in Leeds).
Amy was there with the kids and it was a gloriously sunny day, so we went for a stroll along the canal to the delightful Tiny Tearoom, where I refuelled with a gargantuan muffin and some Yorkshire Tea.
Conclusion
All-in-all, a thoroughly satisfying experience, which I’ll be repeating next year, all being well. The organisation was amazing, the support was fantastic and the course was challenging yet enjoyable.
Maybe I can even get Mia involved in the fun-run (Jude will still be too young) and make a day of it with the family.
Now I’ve got to get my arse into gear for an actual marathon in October. Wish me luck.
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