Professor Simpson's Training Diary 2007

Read how Graeme Simpson has been surviving his rigorous training regime!

23rd April

After all the training, eating pasta, drinking nothing but water, race day arrived, clear, sunny and hot. It turned out to be the hottest London Marathon ever, with "track side" temperatures of 27.5 degrees C (81.5 degrees F). 36,391 runners started and some didn't finish. 

For me it all went reasonably smoothly, given all the things that I'd imagined could go wrong. A 4:30 am start was necessary, to get through all the logistical challenges of getting to the start, and then things went surprisingly easily.

It only took 10 minutes to get over the start line and then most of the first 3 miles is gently downhill, running's equivalent of some easy opening holes.
 
Even as far in as the Cutty Sark, six and a half miles, I was feeling no pain, though this may have been due to the handful of paracetamol tablets I'd already taken, and the knowledge that there were plenty more in my pocket.
 
I was still feeling good as we crossed Tower Bridge, just coming up to the half way point, in about two and a quarter hours. It was about here, though, that I started to have trouble with runners in front suddenly slowing to a walk, and one or two collapsing, as they overheated, or whatever. It was sidestepping, dodging and weaving from here on in … just like getting away from Old Trafford on a matchday, so all of that training was coming in handy.  By this time it was getting seriously hot. Fortunately I'd taken a classic Englishman's  handkerchief with me and this, with a knot in each corner, was the perfect headgear.
 
Miles 13 to 14 are interesting. The "fun runners", like me, are struggling eastwards down The Highway, while the serious runners are at mile 22, going westwards on the same road. I'm told that this is usually discouraging for the fun runners, but this time the "pros" looked so knackered that it somehow lifted my spirits.
 
The miles seemed to be going by more quickly and more easily at this point, but again perhaps that was a paracetamol-induced illusion. I was unable to get any of my medical pals to commit to an upper limit on the number I should take, so I was just taking what I felt I needed, and more seemed to be better.
 
I knew that Niki, Anna and Fraser, and some of their pals, were going to be waiting and watching at Canary Wharf, at about mile 19, so it was great to see them there. I stopped for a quick chat and some photos then set off again.
 
From here on things started to get really tough, and it took all I had in terms of grit and determination to keep going for that last hour or so. I "kept my heed doon" but more because I hadn't the strength to lift it up, and anyway, there wasn't much to look at. It was a long, hot, grind back up to the Tower of London, at mile 23, and then down to the Embankment. At this point you can see the London Eye and Big Ben, and begin to smell the finishing line. When you turn right, at Big Ben, you start to see signs saying "1 km to finish", "800m", "600m", "400" … never have the metres seemed to go more slowly. A chap I was running with, a Yorkshire man, asked me if the building on the left (the Houses of Parliament) was Buckingham Palace … he'd never been to London before. When you do get to Buckingham Palace, a kilometre later, you turn right and there's the finish, 200m ahead. I think I was too weary to raise my arms … I don't remember doing so, anyway.
 
But there it was, I'd done it. As suggested, the important thing was to be able to say I'd run the whole way. Unfortunately, Rick, my 70 year old former biology teacher beat me by 3 minutes, but I was catching him up quickly at the end. Another kilometre and I'd have got him.
 
So the stats were: time 4 hrs 53 minutes; distance run (from my GPS) 26.47 miles (all that dodging and weaving); two of my toenails gone completely, 4 more bloodied, bruised and doomed (though strangely, I felt nothing during the race).  For myself, I feel fine today - it's a little difficult going downstairs, strangely, but other than that, no ill effects.
 
Many thanks, again, go to all of you who sponsored and/or otherwise supported me - I couldn't have done it without you. Particular thanks, of course, to Niki, who over the last 12 months has put up with an obsessive, massaged and soothed his aching or broken muscles, cooked pasta until we were all sick of it, and allowed me to sit for hours on the sofa watching TV while "stretching".
 
A huge "thank you", too, to the people at SeeAbility, particularly Helen and Monica, who have been absolutely brilliant in offering encouragement and logistical support at exactly the right moments. From getting me a starting place, back in October, through fundraising advice, training encouragement and tips, to providing a minibus on the day to get us to the start, and then back home again afterwards (with time out for food, drinks and a massage), they have been fantastic.
 
And finally, on the sponsorship front, it has been a tremendous effort. I can now guarantee that the money has been well earned, and that it is going to a wonderful cause.

16th April
This is the penultimate update. There is now less than a week to go to the start of the big race (some runners take more than 24 hours to finish - remember Danny Wallace last year - so it's hard to say when it's really over), so the next and final update will be by way of a post-mortem, hopefully not literally, and hopefully a week from today.
 
The hard training is over - just a couple of light runs between now and next Sunday. The focus is on staying out of trouble, and in dealing with the logistics. The logistics for the race are interesting. First, I have to register - somewhere in the East End of London, on Thursday evening. In registering, we get: a race number (mine is 45260, for those who will be watching on TV), to pin on the running vest; a chip, to attach to a running shoe (to record times and places, among other things to make sure nobody cheats and takes a short cut); a chance, perhaps, to meet some of the celebrity runners; and various other bits of running advice and gear.
 
Then there's the issue of getting to the start on Sunday morning. The start is at Blackheath, not the easiest place to get to. Fortunately, SeeAbility has a minibus which will go from Epsom to the start - I just have to drive to Epsom and, more to the point, try to drive home again after the run.

You'll note, too, that there's no photograph with this update. First, you've seen enough of me in the previous three updates, and secondly, there's little change, other than three toenails coming off, and the others going blacker. Just flesh wounds, though, and nothing that a good dose of paracetamol won't take care of.  So I'm reasonably confident of making it to the start; best estimate is that I'll still be running at 20 miles; and high side is that I'll finish in under 4:45 (all this provided the weather cools from the 26 degrees C - 79 degrees F - that we had in Guildford this weekend).

3rd April 2007

Two and a bit weeks to go and, thank goodness, we are into "the taper" … the last really long training run, 20 miles, was on Sunday, and from now until the 22nd, the distances gradually decrease, to conserve energy.  Just as well, really. The picture on the right was taken just after the 20 mile run, a full dress rehearsal. The first is me, somewhere between the agony and the ecstasy, collapsed in the back garden!
 
The 20 mile run went as well as these things can go, I suppose. Sore, but not too sore, all the way round, and feeling dreadful, but not too dreadful, for about 4 hours afterwards. Then the elation of having done it, and a feeling of euphoria for the rest of the day. There doesn't seem to be any lasting problems, and I'm beginning to see how you could get addicted to running … but there's no danger of that happening to me.
 
So now we are into the final count-down, where they say that there is nothing you can do to improve your fitness, but plenty you can do to destroy it. So I'll be careful not to stub toes, going up and down stairs, or twist an ankle on a kerbstone, and I'll keep away from anyone with a cold or the flu!
 
26th March 2007
This is the second update, time flies, and so have I, in the meantime, to Berlin and to the Middle East - some interesting environments to run in.  The Marathon date, April 22nd, is getting shockingly close. I'm beginning to realise what a huge event this is going to be.
 
Likewise, the training is reaching its peak. I managed, just, a 17 miler yesterday, per the training schedule and more or less on time (just under 3 hours). All being well, there will be a 20 miler next weekend. Then, thank goodness, things taper off in the last three weeks before the run itself.
 
The photo on the left shows me in front of the Reichstag in Berlin a couple of weeks ago. I am being held up by my 82 year old mother, shortly after I finished a half-ish marathon (13.5 miles) around the streets of Berlin, and she, in turn, is being held up by my 85 year old father. They certainly look a lot fresher than I do. My Dad doesn't see very well these days, which is one of the reasons I'm running for SeeAbility.
 
26th February 2007
This is the first of what I hope will be several updates. There will be more over the next few weeks, as the day of reckoning looms, and if I survive, so that you can keep tabs on my progress, or lack of it. On the training side, things have been a bit mixed, though I suspect all would-be runners turn into hypochondriacs, and so would say the same thing. There have been several pulled calf and hamstring muscles, a continuously grumbling left Achilles tendon and, as of this weekend's run, blistered toes. But the wonderful physio s who have been putting me back together assure me that I'll make it, somehow.
 
The photo on the right documents my state after finishing a 13.5 mile run. Look what it does to you! So I'm 90% through the training, and have just managed to go half distance … scary. The schedule calls for a 15 miler next weekend, then a couple of 18 mile ones, before easing up a little in April.  April 22nd is the big day.