18. Blogs and Jogs

Monday 16th August 2021 was, apparently, national Rollercoaster day.

This turned out to be rather fitting, as having just returned from a stag doo, my anxiety levels, and emotions in general, felt like they were riding the Intimidator 305.

On said day, if you were to write out a list of things that I felt like doing, then in last place, just behind riding a fuck off rollercoaster, would have been running a marathon.

Just getting off the sofa and down to the shops to forage for another pack of Haribo Tangfastics seemed like an insurmountable task.

The thought of running was ludicrous. Not just because of the hangy jitters, but also as I had a bit of an injury sitch on the go. Having become a lockdown jogger (yep, original), after 15 months of pounding pavements, my right calf and achilles had decided that enough was enough.

Gyms had reopened, so even though I was still trying to exercise regularly, running had very much been put on the back burner for some time.

Yep, on Monday 16th August, my focus was purely on finding the most comfortable position possible on the sofa, and trying to manage my soaring anxiety levels. I was blissfully unaware that I would even need to think about running.

And then, at 10:23 that morning, I receive a message saying “Keen for a marathon space?”

As you can imagine, my immediate reaction was something along the lines of ‘thank you, but absolutely not’.

A marathon? In like 6 weeks? 48 days? Out of running shape? Nursing an injury? Getting off my sofa!? This all sounded awful.

However, the London Marathon...

The London Marathon has always carried a sense of prestige in the Birch household. My Mum’s a keen runner, and BBC’s coverage of the big day was a staple on the annual calendar of must-views. I grew up watching Paula Radcliffe win year after year, and smash the world record in 2003. Living in Luxembourg, and having only been to London a couple of times, the whole thing all seemed very glamorous.

As such, in addition to it being arguably the most famous long distance run in the world, the London Marathon is something I always felt this extra level of emotional attachment towards.

I always liked the idea of running it, though actually running the distance was about as appealing as going back to Brighton for another stag doo.

So, as someone who overthinks the fuck out of most things, my hungover brain was sent into meltdown. Finally, after much deliberation, I concluded that despite all the reasons not to commit, it felt like too special an opportunity to pass on.

Operation try and survive the bloody thing had commenced.

It was time to do something about my gammy lower right leg, and my overall gammy cardio fitness. And quickly.

Googling marathon training programmes seemed like a pretty logical place to start. Though within about 45 seconds, I realised that this was making my already overly high anxiety levels considerably worse.

20 week training schedules and articles about peaking by 6 weeks out were pretty much the exact opposite of what I wanted to read. So I got off Google asap and drafted up my own rough training plan. This basically had 2 elements to it:

• Run. Take 2 days off. Repeat.

• Stretch. A lot.

Probably not the cutting edge of Sports Science, but it felt achievable. Ish.

Now, I knew my own fragile mind wasn’t going to be enough to get me through the weeks to come, so I decided that a bit of extra motivation wouldn’t go amiss. Eye of the Tiger was put on and it was time to dig out some inspirational content.

I found listening to elite endurance athletes incredibly useful. Just hearing your David Goggins, your Courtney Dauwalters and your Ross Edgleys talk about running ultra-marathons and swimming around countries felt like mental fuel. Running 26.2 miles is obviously difficult, but their feats helped frame a mere marathon as something that felt much more achievable.

Whilst on the subject of name dropping very helpful sources, I’ve got to give a massive shout out to the knees over toes guy and SmashweRx from a stretching and injury-prevention work point of view as well. Managing to get through the training and the marathon itself injury-free was largely down to exercises I took from these two fine gentlemen.

Committing to the run injured was a strange feeling, and I basically had an almost constant sense of underlying anxiety that I was going to write myself off and not be able to take part.

So I did something that’s probably quite common when feeling a bit insecure about something, and massively overcompensated.

I spent an obscene amount of time to stretching. Christ it was dull at times, but it was an absolute game changer.

Though of course, motivational content and mobility work was only going to get me so far, I had to actually put my running shoes on.

A lot of the training was very enjoyable. There are probably few better places in the world to regularly run around than London. The parks, the sites, the Thames, it’s unreal. It’s a pleasure to go for a run in this city.

However, let’s not completely sugar-coat it, a lot of it was also gruelling.

At the risk of sounding like “look at me, I’ve run a marathon, I am now the Enlightened One”, I couldn’t help but see this as a bit of a wider metaphor for life.

On the longer training sessions in particular, where there was a lot of time to think, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between long distance running and life in general.

Yep, a total fucking slog.

I jest I jest, however ‘being 20 miles into a 26.2 mile run’ could easily be substituted for ‘life’ in the famous Buddhist idea that “life is suffering”.

And I believe that running that sort of distance can help elevate our ability in general to deal with things such as adversity, hardship and suffering. It requires a certain degree of mental fortitude that’s not limited to running, but applicable to other areas of life as well. Whilst getting stuck into my inspirational podcasts, I heard Goggins say something along the lines of the mental strength building power of doing things that suck, which, when in the trenches of training, particularly resonated.

The London Marathon also gave me something to focus on.

I’m going to tread carefully around the use of the word ‘purpose’ here, because it’s another term that’s been kinda tarnished by the self-help industry.

We’ve all heard about the importance of having a sense of purpose, a raison d’etre. And whether that makes our eyes roll and our skin crawl or not, I believe there is some truth in that overly cliched sentiment.

I’m definitely someone who needs some sort of aim or goal to focus on, otherwise I can find myself on a bit of a slippery slope towards feeling down. The marathon was incredibly beneficial in that regard and I imagine, once the dust has settled and I can actually move again, there’s going to be a fairly sizeable void that I’ll need to try and fill to avoid spiralling into despair.

And what about the big day itself? Wow. Where to begin. Simply put, it was out of this world.

Of course, like anything, there were ups and downs. So let’s get the downs out the way first. I was going pretty well until the 20 mile mark. I hit the wall. Hard. There was no gradual decline, I fell straight off the cliff edge. Both quads and both calves decided to cramp up, and I basically hobbled to the finish line from there on in.

That was obviously pretty tough going, but bloody hell the rest of the day was phenomenal.

The atmosphere was electric. Running across Tower Bridge is something that I’m struggling to put into words. The views, the crowd, the noise, the clear blue sky. I had goosebumps, and felt myself welling up. It was absolutely incredible.

Throughout the full race, the crowd and the support was amazing, and I feel indebted to everyone who turned up. It is, without question, one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life.

Running a marathon possibly isn’t for everyone, but I can’t help but see power in the commitment to doing difficult things. When we’re feeling a bit meh, or stuck in a rut, doing something challenging is probably the very last thing we want to do, but I do believe the benefits are huge. It can help build a sense of resilience, discipline and arguably most importantly, pride. If life is indeed suffering, which we all know it can be at times, then doing difficult things can surely only help elevate our ability to deal with it.

And of course, with long distance running specifically, the best thing about that is the obscene amount of guilt-free food it allows you to put away.

Which, on that note, there’s a cheesecake in the fridge with my name on it. So, I’m going to tuck into that, and lock away my running shoes for the foreseeable future.

I ran the London Marathon in support of the incredible Just A Drop. Click here to donate to their amazing cause. Thank you.