A thoroughly unpleasant six miles…

It’s been a sad few days. I’d gone out for my usual jog after work on Thursday night and when I got back I’d got a text off Clara saying that her mum had died that morning. She’d gone peacefully and Clara was with her, which I guess must be of some comfort. She said that having witnessed first hand the work that Macmillan nurses do and the cancer care that nursing staff in general provide that she wanted to say thank you for the work I’m putting into raising money for them. Such a lovely thing to say, but such a horribly sad thing to have happened. Patsy was a lovely lady, jolly and kind, and always went out of her way to ask how you were and find out how you were doing, despite not seeing a massive amount of me. The last time I saw her was Ella’s 4th birthday two years ago, literally a few weeks before I’d met Chris and I had a date with Bungle that I was rushing home for that evening. Clara texted about a week later to find out how things were going, because her mum had asked, apparently she’d been quite excited as it all sounded so promising! How things change in a week. The last few times I’d seen her she’d been a lot thinner that she’d been when we’d first met, the treatment had taken its toll, Clara said that for the last few months its not been her mum anymore, and I suppose the only consolation in this situation is that she’s not suffering anymore. 4 and a half years is long enough for anyone to be suffering like that. The funeral is on Monday in Darlington so that’ll be a sad day too, but we’ve all been ordered not to wear black and to wear outrageous shoes! So I suspect it will be more of the celebration type of funeral.
With all this in my head I set off on the 16 miler Saturday feeling a bit more purpose, and it isn’t appropriate in a post of this nature to go into too much detail about the run, but lets just say that my stomach let me down and it was the most unbearable run yet. We managed it but we’ve both said since that those extra two miles really had a big impact. Given that the last 6 were spent trying not to have an accident I’m not actually sure of how the mileage itself felt, lucky for me I get to do 18 this week just to find out.
I’ve had my weekly email from Runners World and the marathon, I’m starting to warm to Hugh Brasher, Race Director, as his emails are getting more and more caring. This week he told me to make sure I’m getting enough rest and drink plenty of water, so I’ve decided that seen as he’s asked so nicely I might actually take heed of someones advice to eat and drink sensibly.
It’s been Chris’s birthday last week, and add to that celebration a girls lunch out yesterday, I’ve had 3 3-course Italian meals in the last 4 days. No wonder my stomach has fallen out with me. Anyway, according to all my helpful guidance, this is ‘monster month’. The exertion and stress I’m going to be putting my body through over the next 4 weeks is apparently the toughest of the whole process so we’re advised to not eat the junk we’re craving, and get to bed half an hour earlier each night and other such sensible ideas. So I’ve not eaten any chocolate today, I’ve had loads of water and I’ve even had a glass of milk. It’s like being a child again.
So it feels like it’s the beginning of the end with it, the countdown, or count up depending on how you look at it. I can’t believe I’ve actually done 16 miles. Scary to think in a few weeks that I’ll have hit 20 miles (hopefully). Ideally with less trauma than this weeks long run…

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