Race for Life

I had no idea that a Race for Life would be such a huge event...so.many.people.  Goodness me!

There were over seven thousand runners.  Each runner had brought along several supporters, each runner had raised money for Cancer Research, and each runner had a moving message written on the back of their t-shirt* explaining why they were running.  Layers of goodwill, interesting stories, motivated people, and determination filled the centre of Cambridge yesterday morning.

 

 

 I assumed we'd be running around Parker's Piece - the park in the middle of Cambridge where the race began - but we were actually running right through the centre of the city.  This made it so special, as we ran through King's College, all through the market, and up and down the narrow cobbled streets of shops and cafes.  The hordes of tourists seemed a little baffled as to why seven thousand women in pink had suddenly taken over the city.

 

 

We had a wonderful day, and we raised £275 in total.  I am so proud of Olivia for suggesting that we did it, and grateful to her for getting me running again after more than twenty years of not running.  What a girl!

 

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* The Cambridge News saw the message on the back of my t-shirt saying that I was running for all the cancer patients I've nursed - and interviewed me.  They put a couple of quotes from me in their write up of the day, which you can read here - but I had to suffer the indignity of them getting my age wrong and making me three years older than I actually am.  Olivia, who would not have minded suddenly being made three years older, had her age reported correctly.

10 things

• The running continues to improve - I like it more each time I go, and my 5K time is now down to 31 minutes and 4 seconds.  The sub-30 5K run is heading my way, I feel sure.  My brother-in-law asked me last night "what's changed for you with running?" and I had no insight for him beyond that I didn't used to enjoy it, but now I do.
• Our Race for Life is in Cambridge next weekend.  A massive thank you to all the blog readers who have contributed so generously to our Just Giving page - some of whom I haven't even met before.  I don't have an email address for everyone who has donated, so I haven't been able to thank everyone in person - have a public, and sincere Thank You here instead!  We shall, of course, report back here after the race with photos....
• We have both bought bright pink t-shirts to wear for the race, even though neither of us likes bright pink.  Olivia pointed out that if we didn't wear bright pink for the race we might feel like a couple of sparrows in a flock of flamingos.
• I just found out about the Walk for Women event happening across the UK this summer - I hope I'll be able to go along to at least one of the walks.  They are happening all over the UK to celebrate 100 years since 50,000 suffragists marched across the UK, ending at a rally at Hyde Park to raise awareness of their cause.
• When women get together, they can really make things happen!
• The most famous suffragette, Emmeline Pankhurst believed she was born on 14th July - Bastille Day - although her birth certificate states that in fact she was born on the 15th.  Nobody has really got to the bottom of why this discrepancy came about.  My own Grandmother was definitely born on Bastille Day, however, and was given a French name by her parents as a result - she is 90 today.  Happy Birthday, Grandma!
• I have booked tickets to go and see the Pompeii exhibition at the British Museum, which has been extended until the end of September because it has been so madly popular.  If you want to go, book soon - there are only a few slots left for September.
• The other exhibition I am determined to go to this summer is The Laura Knight Portraits at the National Portrait Gallery.
• I have learnt more about my daughter's interests and plans since she set herself up with a Pinterest account, than any amount of chatting over supper, on runs or long car journeys has ever revealed.  She dreams of travelling to Poland and China and likes foxgloves, trilby hats and lavender.  Who knew?
• In the bustle and busyness of full time work, running, summer plans and end of term, I found myself with an unexpected half hour to myself one afternoon last week.  I was close to one of my favourite places in the whole of London - St Paul's churchyard - so I lay in the dappled shade, reading my kindle and reflecting on how even in the middle of a hot, crowded city like London, there are places of sanctuary and calm.

Running race

Out of nowhere, Olivia said to me, "I want to do a Race for Life this summer".  

I was so surprised; she loves dancing and she likes swimming, but she is eloquent about her disdain for any other sporting activity.  Something about Race for Life had connected with her though.  Friends at school have done a Race for Life, there are posters all over the tube network for the ones in Central London this summer, there are TV adverts about Cancer Research and Race for Life, and I think it is something that many young women do these days almost as a rite of passage. "Oh, everyone knows about them," said Olivia breezily, when I asked her how she'd heard of Race for Life.  I knew that if Olivia was going to do it, I was going to have to do it with her.  How could I not?  I hate any sporting activity other than cycling or hiking as much as she does, but I couldn't see her Race for Life and not join in myself.

The races are usually 5K, and I had heard so many good things about the NHS Couch to 5K programme for novice runners, that I thought we should use that as a way of training for the race.  Olivia pointed out to me that she had assumed she would walk the 5K, which is completely allowed but which earned her a little lecture entitled "If something's worth doing, it's worth doing properly" (a favourite topic of mine that she has heard many times before).  At this point I think she slightly regretted telling me that she wanted to do a Race for Life.

I also wanted to finally get round to doing a Parkrun, which Graham has been doing for several years, and which Cam has also done intermittently.  Parkrun is a free, timed, 5K race against the clock which happens in parks around the world at 9am every Saturday.  Everyone is welcome, from professionals to super fast club runners to people trying to get fit (or stay fit).  Anybody, of any age, can run, and it is completely free and organised and manned by volunteers.  We decided that we would replace one of our three NHS Couch to 5K runs each week with a Parkrun.

Having just completed our first Parkrun - wobbly jelly legs but a huge sense of achievement

We've been training for four weeks now, and I can honestly say that both of us are enjoying it tremendously.  The running gets easier every time we do it, and the NHS Couch to 5K programme is so well designed - pushing us to run more, but never so much that we want to give up.  The people at our local Parkrun have been incredibly welcoming and friendly, and have given us so much support.  The regulars may be mostly fast club runners, but they remember what it's like to be a new runner, coming up to the finish line on tired, achey, slow legs.  They cheer us home!

And now we have entered our race, and have our race numbers ready to wear.  We are doing the event in Cambridge on Sunday 21st July, and are hoping to raise at least £200 for Cancer Research.  If you would like to contribute towards this very worthy cause and show your support for two ex-non-runners who are now loving the running, you can donate to our fundraising here. 
 

My first ever race number

Back home after a training run

 

The Track Cycling World Cup - 10 things

The crowd in the Olympic Velodrome

• We went to the Olympic Velodrome last weekend, to watch Day 3 of the official test event - the Track Cycling World Cup.
• We got to the Velodrome at 8am and left at 4:30pm.  It was so exciting I could have happily stayed there for twice as long.



G and C - still cheering on Team GB after eight hours in the velodrome

• The commentator was delightfully partisan:

"In lane 1 is Mr AB from Russia. In lane 2 is Mr CD from Mexico.  In lane 3 is Mr EF from Australia.  AND IN LANE 4, REPRESENTING GREAT BRITAIN, IS THE WORLD CHAMPION, THE WORLD RECORD HOLDER AND THE FOUR TIMES GOLD-MEDAL-WINNING REIGNING OLYMPIC CHAMPION...SIR.CHRIS.HOY!"

• Everybody screamed, shouted and stamped their feet when the commentator said that. 



Bottoms and bikes - lining up to start the keirin. Can you spot Chris Hoy?

• By the end of the day I had lost my voice.
• Velodromes are heated to 28 degrees C on race days to give optimum speed to the riders.



The countries' pens in the middle of the track

• Watching all the countries' support teams in the pens in the centre of the track proved almost as entertaining as the races.  The Dutch had at least 4 technicians per rider and had brought their own coffee machine into the pens - very classy.
• The thighs on the Greek male cyclists were of absolutely epic proportions.
• One of my tweets made it up onto the big screen in the stadium.  My 12 year old said patronisingly that he was most impressed that I knew how to tweet from my phone.


My tweet on the big screen - "well done, Mum"

• The track has a resident joiner, who was ushered out onto the track, clutching his toolkit, to inspect the wood and make necessary repairs each time there was a crash.

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This coming weekend we are heading back to the Olympic Park to watch Tom Daly in action in the Aquatics Centre test event, the Diving World Cup.  Tickets will be going on sale soon for more Olympic test events - you can find details here.

Race weekend

The race weekend begins on Saturday when we drive up to the National Water Sports Centre in Nottingham with a car full of kit.  The children are staying with their grandparents for the weekend, which means that the race bike doesn't have to suffer the indignity of travelling on a bike rack, it can sit on its very own blanket in the back of the car.

The gleamingly clean bike (in bits) on its special yellow blanket in the back of the car

The day before race day

There are three important things G has to do on the day before race day: registration, racking and race briefing.

Registration takes place in the main building at the National Water Sports Centre.  Most people, including G, are wearing club sweatshirts.  The lady at the registration desk knows G's swimming coach and makes a special fuss of him because he is the only competitor from his club, East London Triathletes.

At Registration

The nice registration lady gives G his race number, which he will wear on a belt around his waist all through the race.  He is also given his timing chip which he will wear on a strap around his ankle all through the race.  The timing chip records his finish time as well as his times for each separate discipline and at various other points around the course.

His race number, which he wears all through the race.  It has his name too, so people can cheer him on!

Once registration is done, we go back to the car and G gets everything ready for racking.  Racking means leaving the bike in the bike racks ready for the race the next day, and also leaving the bike kit (helmet, bike jacket, socks and special clippy bike shoes) in the Bike Transition. 

Transition is where you switch from one discipline to the next.  In Bike Transition you peel off your wetsuit (you will be wearing a tri-suit underneath), and swimming hat, put on your bike kit and load your pockets and your bike with snickers bars and water bottles.  In Run Transition you take off your bike kit and put on your running kit (a new pair of socks and your running shoes - still wearing your tri-suit).

Getting ready for racking, G has to be very organised and concentrate to make sure he is leaving everything he needs in the correct place.  Triathlons are complicated!  Luckily G is a very organised person, so this bit is trouble free.

The back of our car, full of kit being prepared for racking.

We take the bike to the bike racks and G is pleased that the slot for his bike is easy to remember - at one end of the second row.  He won't be dithering in Bike Transition looking for it amongst the hundreds of others.

Hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of bicycle in the bike racks. Early in the afternoon - the racks filled up much more as the day went on.

He leaves a labelled bag with his bike kit in at the Bike Transition, and another labelled bag with his running kit in at the Run Transition.

Then G heads back into the main building for an hour long race briefing.  He finds out important things like what time he has to be in the water ready to start the swim (5:50am) and what will be available at the feeding stations on the run course (bananas and water).

I stand on the balcony of the main building, admiring the view of the lake (usually used for rowing races) and wondering how far the swim actually is.  When G comes out of his race briefing I ask him.

We leave the Water Sports Centre and drive into Nottingham to check in at our hotel and get everything ready for a very early start the next day.

Everything he needs for race day, laid out on the hotel floor the night before

Race day

We set our alarms for 3:30 am.  G gets up and makes himself breakfast: muesli, wholemeal bagels with peanut butter, and fruit smoothies.  I make a pot of coffee and put it in a flask for later.  At 4:15 we leave the hotel and set off for the Water Sports Centre.  We are there in plenty of time, and G goes to the bike racks to check that everything he needs is in the right places at Transition, and to pump up the tyres on his bike.

The sky was dark and the moon still up when we got to the Water Sports Centre at 4:45am

We go into the main building and while I sip my flask of coffee he inches his way into his wetsuit.  Swimming wetsuits are made quite differently to surfing or diving wetsuits.  They are eye-wateringly tight, and take a good ten minutes to put on.  I watch everyone else wriggling into theirs, and rubbing vaseline around their wrists and ankles to stop any chafing.  Seeing hundreds of men peel themselves into skin-tight wetsuits is a bit much at this time in the morning, actually.  I sip some more coffee and avert my gaze.  Wives are applying suncream to husbands' ears and necks, and I put some on G too.

We head down to the lake and I say goodbye to G before he heads into the competitors' area and lines up at the edge of the lake.  I am suddenly utterly overwhelmed by the enormity of what he has to do, and burst into tears, but he is grinning his very widest grin and looks ready to take on the world.

And he's gone. Spectators outside the competitors' area at 5:40am, just after I said goodbye to G

The start of the race

The race is a 2.4 mile swim, followed by a 112 mile bike ride, followed by a 26.2 mile (marathon distance) run.  He is hoping to do the whole race in twelve and a half hours.

I next see him early in the afternoon, about a quarter of the way into his run.  I stand on the grassy bank with loads of other supporters and shriek madly when I see him running towards me.  He is pleased to see me, is still beaming, and high fives me as he runs past.  The next time I see him, about an hour and twenty minutes later he is still looking good, although the grin has faded a little.  He has one more lap to go.  I move closer to the finish line and start to get very excited and nervous.  He is nearly home, and it looks like he is going to be much faster than he expected.

I finally see him coming into the home straight at 12 hours and 3 minutes - a full half hour faster than he expected.  The grin is back and I shriek with excitement again and shout to the world how wonderful he is.

He did it!

I push my way through the crowds and press myself against the railings separating the spectators from the finished competitors.  We have lots of sweaty kisses and he disappears into a marquee to collect his medal and eat some pasta.

Later still, he retrieves his bike, wetsuit and other kit and comes through to the spectators side wearing his new t-shirt, his medal...and that big grin!

His brother and sister were also there to support him and we all tell him how amazing he is and how very, very proud of him we are.  Tears are shed (mostly by me) and dozens of photos are taken.  It has been an amazing weekend, which we will all remember for the rest of our lives.

G, with his incredibly proud brother and sister

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The race, though, is just one day. 

The training for this race has been a full year of complete dedication and focus on G's part (on top of seven previous years of competing in the usual shorter-distance triathlons), as well as sacrifice, compromise, thoughtfulness and determination.  It is for these qualities that he gets my admiration and pride.  He has truly been an inspiration to me.  Nothing with value comes without hard work, and the race day is a celebration and illustration of all that hard work.

An eclectic list of small happinesses

It is still the small things which are delighting me this week.

• Progress - at last - from the Foreign Office, who have been slowly preparing important certificates for me and G, so that we can get married in France.  G's certificate is finally here, and mine is on its way.  The deadline for handing them in to the Mairie is next week, so I can breathe a little easier now.

• By contrast, the officicial translators we've used have been a model of efficiency and speed.  We have to get all our birth certificates translated into French by a traducteur assermenté (official translator) and we used Bond Street Translators, who have been incredibly quick and helpful.  Should you ever need anything official translating into French, these are your people.
• C has been awaded Young Runner of the Year by our local Park Run, and we are so proud of him!  He came home from this morning's run with a big box of chocolates, a fancy certificate and a big grin on his face.

• The garden has had a proper drenching from the weird, stormy weather we've been having all week.  It really needed it, and now all my busy lizzies and geraniums are dazzlingly bright and producing new buds.
• I made a cotton summer dress for one of O's friends, using the Japanese pattern book I blogged about here.  The fabric is what makes this dress so special - a metre length of printed cotton from Ikea.  Ikea always have a few properly stunning fabrics in stock, and if you live close to one it is well worth popping in regularly to see what you can find.  Many fabrics have print that is a little too big for dressmaking but every now and then you hit the jackpot, like with this bird one.

• I saw photos of my nephews and niece having fun on holiday in Norfolk.  The picture of my 18 month old nephew looking very solemn, in a wetsuit, was too sweet for words.  He looks so much more a part of the family now that he is big enough to run around the beach with his older brother and sister.
• I made fresh strawberry and vanilla muffins for brunch this morning.  They taste and smell of summer.
• G has headed off to Snowdonia with his bike, wetsuit and other triathlon clobber for a half-ironman race tomorrow.  He's well rested, filled with carbs and optimistic for a good time and straightforward race.  Or at least he was until he saw the latest weather forecast.
• While G is away, secret plans are afoot for Father's Day next week. Sshhh!

Weekday walk #7

We headed to Epping Forest yesterday for our weekday walk.  We wanted something local, and a little shorter than usual.  We also hoped we might see the very first bright green buds and leaves on the trees.

We met up at Queen Elizabeth's Hunting Lodge in the Chingford part of the forest, and after changing into our walking boots and unfolding and re-folding our OS maps for about ten minutes we headed for the trees.  You really do need walking boots in Epping Forest at this time of year - the ground is very muddy in places, and churned up by mountain bikes and horses.

Hoof prints along a bridleway in Epping Forest

The sun shone and we yomped along, happily photographing bits of lichen and new buds, and stopping to say hello to the very many dogs and horses who were also out enjoying the fresh air and spring sunshine with their owners.

New growth

Yellow spring lichen

Irresistable pussy willow

Blue skies

We walked through the forest to the Epping Forest Visitor Centre at High Beach, and then back to Queen Elizabeth's Hunting Lodge, which made an easy six mile loop altogether. 

There are some  hills in Epping Forest, which, although very modest really, were still a bit of a shock after our last couple of months of perfectly flat riverside and canalside walks.  I jogged up a long hill at High Beach to get a photo of Gill at the bottom adding some perspective, and my legs could certainly feel it afterwards!

Gill at the bottom of the hill at High Beach

spring is coming!

buds of blossom

new beech leaves

pollarded tree

the tree-man at the Visitor Centre smells a daffodil

I love Epping Forest so much.  I've been coming here for walks ever since I first moved to East London - long ones by myself or shorter ones with the family.  They're all good.  When O got her first camera a few years ago, she spent the whole of a four mile walk along the bridleways photographing horse poo.  G goes for long runs through Epping Forest all through the year - in the winter months, coming home exhilarated and caked in mud.  Next weekend he's running in the infamous Orion 15 race, which includes the section that Gill and I walked yesterday.

Epping Forest is a properly ancient forest going much further back in history than Queen Elizabeth I.  You can still see an iron-age hill camp possibly used by Boudicca, and I'm sure it was around for thousands of years before that.  Among the beeches, holly and the hawthorn there are some enormously solid oak trees that sit placidly watching the walkers, runners, dogs, horses and school children exploring below.

We sat under one to drink our coffee and soak up the spring sunshine.

Our weekend of sport

Well, there is no doubt this is a very big sporting weekend for us.  No, not the Canadian Grand Prix.  Not the tennis championship, at Queen's Club, either.  Not even one of those football matches happening in South Africa at the moment (Graham claimed it was totally necessary that he watch the tantalising match that was France v Uruguay last night, and then fell asleep on the sofa after 10 minutes.  I felt horribly righteous.).

No; for us, this big sporting weekend is all about running and triathlons. 

A while ago Graham and I found out about the parkrun organisation, and last month Graham went along to their inaugural run at Hackney Marshes, on the edge of the Olympic site, just a mile or so from where we live.  Parkrun is a wonderful organisation that arranges and hosts free, timed 5km runs every Saturday morning around the country (you can find your closest one here).  The races are truly open to everybody of all ages and abilities, from complete beginners to Olympians, and everyone in between.

This morning Cam ran his first ever 5km race at the third Hackney Marshes parkrun.  He is not a fan of PE at school, and hates football with a passion, but has been hankering after doing something sporty out of school for a while.  He asked if he could have a go at this after hearing G and I talking about it. 

So Graham bought him some proper running shoes.

And he had a little practise in the sitting room, wearing his pyjamas.

I printed off his race barcode and laminated it.  The barcode is effectively your entry ticket and it enables you to get an official time for your race.

And that was all the preparation we needed to do. 

This morning we all headed over to Hackney Marshes. Graham to help out with the marshalling, me, Livvy and Uncle David to be cheerleaders, and Cam to race.  Cam borrowed Graham's sat nav watch, so that he cold see how far he'd gone at any point and how fast he was running.  It looked so big on his skinny little ten-year old wrist!

There was a quick briefing from the race organiser, and off they all went.  Uncle David and I looked at each other with a little trepidation and wondered how Cam would get on.  How far can 10 year olds run? we wondered, not entirely sure.  Hopefully at least 5km.

Pre-race briefing; Cam at the back wearing a red top, blue shorts & looking very small.

And of course, as is always the case when children decide for themselves that they are ready to do something, it all turned out very well indeed.  Cam ran the race in just under 35 minutes, much faster than he expected to.  He had a great time, he didn't get lost, he didn't get a stitch, and he finished ahead of several of the adults.  He didn't even mind me squealing with excitement as he came up to the finish line.

You'd think after all that early morning activity we'd all head back home and have a nice cup of tea and a sit down.  But instead our race excitement then switched to Graham who left from the parkrun to drive to Snowdonia, where he is competing in a half ironman triathlon tomorrow morning.  In all the understandable excitement about Cam's first race, we've all completely taken for granted Graham's entry into only his second ever half-ironman race (you can see photos of his first one here).

And we really shouldn't be taking such a ridiculously long, involved race for granted.  Apart from anything else, just look at all the clobber he has to take with him.

Here are just some of the things he packed:

• running shoes
• wetsuit
• trisuit
• bike shoes
• bike
• spare inner tubes (lightweight - makes all the difference)
• bike pump
• a great deal of carb and protein laden food
• posh sunglasses
• a woolly hat
• at least three water bottles
• a blanket to keep the bike snug while it is in the back of the car

He will start off with a 2km swim in Bala lake, then a 90km bike ride through the foothills of Snowdonia, and then finish with a half-marathon run (21km) back to Bala.  He is aiming to do the whole race in around five and a half hours.  I won't be there to squeal with excitement when he finishes, as I did for Cam's race, but I've promised Graham that as a gesture of solidarity I'll be up tomorrow morning by the time he starts on the bike section of the race.  Abut 10am.  And I'm planning on baking him some coffee and walnut buns for when he gets back on Monday.

I think both of them have earned a few slices of cake this weekend.

After Cam finished his race. Very proud Dad, very tired son.