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One day while we were both running, the topic
of the London Marathon came up. As we talked about it during the
run, I became more and more interested in taking part in the 2006 event.
My family - like most families - had been
affected by various illnesses, and we all have causes that we feel
strongly about. But after some discussion I decided on a little known
charity with a low profile. In recent years there had been only one
death in the family that was not connected with cancer, and that was my
Uncle Peter who died from Sudden Death Syndrome (SDS). It was on the
night of the 1st of December 2001. He was sitting in front of the
television on a Saturday night with the rest of his family, when he got up
off the sofa and then just collapsed on to the floor. My aunt tried to
revive him using CPR (Cardiopulmonary resuscitation) and called an
ambulance. However, he was dead on arrival at the hospital. This was a
very shocking event for our family. After the autopsy, it emerged that he
had been living with a hidden heart abnormality all his life, it was a bit
like a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. Had this condition been
diagnosed much sooner he could have been treated and would still be alive
today.
I did some research and came across a charity
by the name of CRY (Cardiac Risk in the Young). After reading
through their website, I decided that this was the charity that I would
run for. I applied straight away that night. The charity CRY is dedicated
to promoting awareness of the devastating condition of Sudden Arrhythmia
Death Syndrome (SADS) as well as providing research, counselling and
screening for this condition.
On my next run with Adam, I told him about my plans to run for CRY in the
London Marathon and my reasons why. Late that night he telephoned me
to say that he had thought about what we had been talking about earlier,
and had decided that he would also like to run this year’s London Marathon
for CRY as well.
 Once
Adam had applied and been accepted as a CRY runner, we both sat down and
thought about the best way to raise funds and train for the event.
After reading a few articles from Runner’s World online and reading a few
runners forums pages, we decided the best training strategy was to compete
in a running race every weekend - gradually increasing the distances - as
well as training during the weekdays. We then compiled a list of races for
each weekend and sent off entry forms.
The next debate was on sponsorship and how we
felt we could reach our target of £3000. We approached local
companies in the Henley on Thames and the surrounding areas, asking for
sponsorship. We offered sponsors a location on our running costume
for their company logo and also the following benefits:
-
A banner on a specially-built fundraising
website
-
A page on that website which would allow the
company to describe what service or product they offered to the general
public
-
A link from our website to the company
website
-
Ways to contact the company
Over the next month we got a friend to help
build us a fundraising website called Saving Young Hearts, and started to
fill the site with content and enter it in to the search engines.
A few weeks into the new year of 2006, my Dad
came home one night and said that he had seen an advert for a running
guide to go on runs in Reading with a blind man. I phoned the number in
the advert and that was the first time I spoke to Bill Gulliver. He
explained to me that he was blind and that he would require someone to run
alongside him for two hours every Wednesday. I went along the following
Wednesday and ran beside Mr Gulliver. As we ran around the field he
would talk about running techniques and an appropriate diet for runners.
We ran for a total of two hours and at the end of the night, I could
notice an improvement in my running style due to Bill's advice.
After a few more sessions on the field, I was offered a place in Team
Mendelssohn, which is captained by Bill Gulliver and is managed by his
wife Pam.
It was now the middle of February and
everything was going well with both the fundraising and the actual
training for the marathon. When writing out the list of races one week, we
decided that we would do some cross-country to spice things up a little.
It was the 19th February and this Sunday’s race was the
Hardwick cross-country near Alysbury. The weather was terrible, with heavy
rain and a freezing howling wind. All the runners gathered in a big mass
due to the weather conditions - just like Emperor penguins!
I was just placing the last earplug into my
ear for my iPod, when everyone bolted off running. The race had started
and Adam shot off with the rest of the runners. I have participated before
in cross-country events but never in one with streams that you had to run
through which come up to your hip; or mud bogs that seemed to of be a
clay-like nature that clung to the soles of running shoes. It was hard as
you could never seem to overtake on this course as when you did try to use
a burst of speed to over take someone you would just loose traction at
slip repeatedly.
After about three miles, I managed to catch up
with Adam and as we both entered the third stream I somehow managed to
make it to the other side of the bank before him and pushed myself up the
steep incline and back on to another farm type field. At this point, I
was travelling once again at quite some speed and just after I crossed a
footpath bridge to enter into another field, I seemed to buckle under the
new dry type of soil. This put me off balance and as I was going at some
pace at the time, I was thrown further off balance resulting in me landing
badly on my right foot. This then twisted further and distorted my
ankle into a collapsed L shaped formation.
As my body was still in motion, I carried out
a further few very painful strides before coming to a complete halt in a
hopping like stance. I knew right away that I had done some serious damage
to my ankle. I then looked round for some form of help. I was
in the middle of a field, could not walk or put my right foot down, and
was in a considerable amount of pain. In the distance, I could see a
marshal dressed in a fluorescent orange jacket. I then slowly began to hop
over to the marshal and as I got half way, I could see that the marshal
was a woman and she had started to walk towards me. She could see
that I was in some difficulty. The lady asked what I had done and I said I
thought I had broken my ankle. See then quickly went off to get some more
help.
As I was about three miles from the start it
would take forever to get back on foot so the woman returned with a man on
a quad bike that quickly transported me to a St. John's Ambulance. Once
inside the ambulance the St. John's people began to cut off my wet socks
and supports. The medics then examined my ankle and said straight away
that it was broken. I then looked down and could see my deformed ankle;
this made me feel quite sick. I was then taken to the local Hospital
for x-rays and the Doctor confirmed that it was indeed broken. My leg was
then put into a semi-cast and I was advised to consult my local Hospital
in a week’s time for a full cast once the swelling had gone down.
Adam and his girlfriend Vashina had
accompanied me to the hospital for support. After treatment Adam
gave me a lift home as I could no longer drive. On the way home we
discussed what had happened, because Adam thought that I had simply
tripped and so had carried on running to finish the race. I explained to
him what the Doctor had said and that it was impossible for me to run with
him in this year's London Marathon. For the rest of the journey, we were
silent.
The next day I telephone CRY to explain my
situation, said that I was sorry about this, and hoped that they could
find someone else to take my place in running for them. For the next few
days I just sat in my room in utter despair. I could not go to work
as both my part time jobs required physical mobility. I was not able to
drive myself anywhere and unable to progress further on my business
venture. I spent the vast majority of my time in my room, going over in my
mind what I had done and what I was going to say to people that had
already sponsored me.
On Wednesday night at about ten, I received a
telephone call from Bill. He was calling to ask why I had missed that
night's training session, and to ask how I had got on at the previous
weekend's race. I then began to explain the situation and what had
happened over the course of the race and what the Doctor had told me at
the hospital. Bill then asked me if I had thought about still doing
the London Marathon using crutches. I said that it had not entered my head
as even walking short distances on crutches was causing me some distress
and pain.
He then asked me if I still wanted to take part in this year’s London
Marathon. My answer was obliviously still yes, but I felt that it would be
impossible to do this on crutches. Bill then said that was all he
needed to know and that he would call the race officials to see if I could
still take part on crutches. After a tense five minutes waiting, Bill
phoned me and told me I was back in the race. After the initial
excitement subsided, I then realised the enormity of the task that awaited
me. I struggled to hop more than a few hundred metres without
needing a lengthy sit down to recover, let alone complete twenty six
miles. Bill then suggested that I must start my training straight
away to convert my runner’s physique into more of a weightlifter's body
type.
 That
Sunday was my first race using standard crutches. The race was held in
Winchester and the distance was ten kilometres (6.4 miles). I did manage
to complete the race in a painfully slow three hours and forty five
minutes. That works out about thirty five minutes a mile which was far too
slow. At that rate, it would have taken me about fifteen hours to complete
the 26.2 miles of the London Marathon. After the race I had a look at my
hands and they resembled raw slabs of meat. It was at this point I
realised that something needed to be done with the crutches. As I took
part in more races using these crutches it became ever more apparent that
the crutches would not last the distance on the day, as the rubber tips
wore out and the crutches' hand-grips gave me severe blisters even when
wearing professional mountain-climbing gloves. I concluded that the
standard crutches were not adequate, and I would need to have
modifications if I was to complete the marathon. Bill then commenced a
nationwide search to find a pair of racing crutches.
This search proved fruitless as there were no
racing crutches or specially adapted sports crutches in existence. It was
then that Bill came up with the idea of getting some racing crutches made,
and once again the search was on to find a company that could help us with
this task. It was at this point when we came into contact with a lady by
the name of Mary-Ann Mitchell from an organisation called Remap. Remap is
a national registered charity that provides one-off technical aids which
help disabled people of all ages to enjoy a better lifestyle. From here
Bill was directed to a gentleman by the name of Harry Thompson who lived
in Blewbury near Oxford. Mr Thompson had served in the RAF and now ran an
engineering company that had close ties with the nuclear industry. In his
spare time Harry works for Remap and has helped design and make lots of
devices to assist disabled people.
Bill then arranged a consultation with Harry
at his home to explain what we required and set out a specification for
the new racing crutches. Harry then suggested and showed us a few
solutions to our current problems. We then discussed these suggestions
further and Harry said that he would need a few days to put together some
kind of prototype for us to come back and test. He explained that
development work would take some time and that on occasion unforeseen
problems could arise. We then left Harry’s home and he then begin to
invent some kind of product that would meet the following criteria:
-
Prevent the rubber tips from wearing away at
the bottom of the crutches, which resulted in the metal rod digging into
the ground, causing further vibrations, and loss of momentum
-
Some kind of padding on the handles that
would give a more comfortable grip, causing fewer blisters and pains to
my wrist
-
To integrate some kind of shock absorber
system into the crutch to stop the vibrations travelling up to my arms
and shoulders.
A few days later Harry telephoned me to say
that he had the first prototypes ready and would like me to come over and
try them out. I arrived at Harry’s workshop and was then talked through
the new developments. To stop the rubber tip wear, Harry had placed a
tungsten carbide tip at the bottom of the crutches that protruded about
three or four millimetres beyond the rubber. This tungsten tip would make
contact with the ground first. This was also used to help with slippage on
wet and uneven surfaces.
The next development was a 'memory' foam-type
material for the handles of the crutches. This material was first invented
by NASA and has an elastic memory capacity. When I gripped the handles on
the crutches it would mould around my hands and leave a print of my grip
when I release it. This helped further reduce transmission of vibration.
The final stage of development was the shock absorber system that
consisted of two main stages. The first was a gas cylinder spring that had
an incorporated damping system fitted into the cylinder itself. This
allowed the crutches to compress on the forward stride, effectively
stopping the transmission of the energy vibrations caused when the
crutches smashed into the ground. Once I had landed and started to lift
the crutches up, the cylinder push rod would return the crutch to its
original position for the next compression stroke.
The other part was a rubber insert that would
be sited on the cylinder rod itself. The rubber inserts would give
additional damping for the crutches and to help decide on the amount of
travel required for the compression stroke. The rubber inserts' length
would differ according to each user’s height and stride preference. If the
rubber was too short then it would disrupt the stride pattern, resulting
in loss of rhythm. Harry then explained that I would need to do some
experimentation with these crutches to find the desired length of the
rubber insert. He wanted me to do some testing over the next few days to
ascertain whether I could see any problems. These could then be fixed or
adjusted to make the usage of them more enjoyable and comfortable.
Over the next few days I tested the crutches
on a route near my house of about two miles. On each of these tests I
would change the rubber inserts to see which suited me best. I telephoned
Harry to say that I had set up the crutches to my requirements. He then
asked me to come over to his house again so that we could weld together
all the movable parts and give the crutches a quick once over before the
race.
 My
first race with the new crutches was the Worthing 20 miles. On that
morning a lot things went wrong, including transport, resulting in my late
arrival at the start. This meant that my train of thought was somewhere
else and I was not physically or mentally prepared for the race. The race
had just started as I was making my way to the start line. I started the
race and in the first few hundred meters I managed to pull a muscle in my
left leg due to not warming up properly - this was bad as I still had to
cover another 19.8 miles. Then my second disaster struck when I was
redirected by a marshal on to a path by a roundabout. As I crossed
from the road to the pavement, the crutches slipped away from me and I
fell pretty badly, resulting in two cut knees and two cut elbows and being
seriously winded. The marshal then waddled over to me as he had just seen
what had happened. He began to apologise for directing me on to the
icy path - as it was still early morning and the sun had not yet broken
through the clouds ,some of the pavement was still icy. The tungsten tip
was not designed to work on ice. All of the other runners had run on the
road so had not meet with this problem, but due to me being on crutches
and being quite a way behind, the marshal thought that I should use the
pavement, leading to my fall.
It took me about five minutes to regain my
composure and start again. I was now feeling pretty battered but still
wanted to continue. I had just turned a corner and was now on a nice long
straight. It was at this point I seemed to gain my second wind and was now
motoring along at a good speed and managing to subdue the pain from the
fall and the damaged muscle. All of a sudden the crutch on my right
side separated half way down by unscrewing itself and falling off
mid-stride! With a split second reaction I managed to force the
remaining part of the crutch in my hand, into the ground, stopping myself
falling into the road. I then re-adjusted myself and hopped back to pick
up the other part of the crutches from the floor. I reassembled the
crutch and continued onwards.
I had now lost faith in the crutches and my
own ability, and decided that it would be best to stop now, as the
crutches still had a few problems that needed to be sorted out. I reached
the next mile mark and explained my situation to the marshal. He
then arranged for someone to take me back to the start of the race. This
was a sad end to the week and I was disappointed in the day’s events. When
I got home and thought about what had happened it then occurred to me that
with every major innovation in history there had been setbacks along the
way. Today was a setback, and just as Harry had said, there would be days
like this.
Bill telephoned Harry on the Monday morning
after the race to explain what had happened. This really meant going
back to the drawing board. Another problem that had occurred was that the
pressure in the gas springs was too high and meant that I was fighting
against the springs. This meant that my arms were becoming tired more
quickly. The reason that I did not notice this before during the
testing phase was that I was only travelling two or three miles. Because I
was travelling a longer distance, the fatigue in my arms had increased.
The solution to this problem was to decrease the pressure in the gas
spring cylinders. The other problems which had occurred in the Worthing 20
where easily fixed, by sharpening the point of the tungsten tip and by
lock tightening the screw which had worked loose. The really tough problem
was changing the pressure in the gas springs, as specialist equipment was
required to alter the pressure and Harry’s workshops was not equipped with
the necessary tools.
I received a telephone call from Harry later
on in the week to tell me that he had managed to mock up a credo pressure
device to change the pressure in the gas springs. I went to Harry’s and we
gave the device a try, it did work - but a little too well - and we ended
up with too little pressure. This meant that the crutches would now bottom
out when I applied my weight, which caused something called reverb. This
means that when the gas spring is in the compression process it will just
smash into the rubber inserts and rebound.
The Reading half marathon was only a few days
away and we now had semi-working crutches but with no way of replacing the
damaged parts in time. We had no idea where we could get replacement
springs and even if we did would they arrive in time for the race?
Eventually I had to take part in the race with the crutches in their
current state, with the reverb problem.
 I
started the half marathon at Reading on the Sunday 9th April in
fine condition. At this point the training was going well and I had
reduced my time to fifteen minutes per mile. This meant I should finish
today’s race at around the three and a half hours mark. This was the first
time I had entered this race and I was very impressed by the size of the
event and the general layout of the course. As this race was my local half
marathon, I really wanted to get a good time and finish the race without
any problems. I arrived in Reading, prepared myself for the race and made
my way to the start line. As usual I started at the back of the pack, so
as not to get in anyone’s way due to my lack of speed. The race then
started, and five minutes later I had crossed the start line.
Everything was going well except the reverb
problem with the crutches. The crowd was excellent and for once there were
still a few runners positioned around me which helped spur me on. My plan
was to meet my parents at the four mile mark to have a quick break and
perform a few wrist exercises to allow the blood to flow through to my
wrists. I was now a few miles into the course and things were going well.
I had just completed the major hill of the course and was covering
distance at a good speed and from looking at my watch was on for a
personal best for a half marathon on crutches if I could keep going at the
current pace. I was just coming up to the Reading University sports field
where I train with my Team Mendelssohn colleagues - I crossed the road
onto the pavement when I felt a shooting pain on my right wrist. I carried
on, hoping that the pain would lessen. I have had lots of pains thoughout
my running / hopping career but this one was different - it was more
aggressive and the pain was more focused and severe.
This forced me to slow my pace right down. I
stopped for a few seconds and then tried to start again, but the pain was
becoming if anything worse. I realised now that I was in some real trouble
and stopped again. A man that was a little way ahead me had stopped
and was now jogging back to me, he could see from my facial expression
that I was in a serious amount of pain. He asked me what was wrong and I
informed him that I had a terrible bad shooting pain occurring in my wrist
every time I took a stride. He suggested that I should pull out of the
race. I then said that I would carry on a little further hoping that the
pain would subside. I hobbled to a water station got a drink and luckily
there was a small medical team there who applied a bandage. I then
continued around the course.
I was now going at about half the pace and the
pain was slightly muffled, but still there. I kept thinking to myself that
I had to finish as family and friends had turned up and I did not want to
let them down. I also knew that my parents were only a little bit further
ahead. The man who came back earlier was now slowly plodding alongside me.
I explained my situation and told him about CRY the charity who I was
raising money for and why I was doing it and that in two weeks time I
would be taking part in the London Marathon. He then suggested that if he
was me, that he would consider dropping out of this race in case I did
some serious damage to my wrist. I listened to him but what he was saying
was falling upon deaf ears.
As I went round the corner, I saw my parents
walking towards me. They must have realised that something was amiss and
had started to walk back along the course to find out what had happened to
me. My Mum asked what I had done to my right arm, because my stride was
slightly lopsided due to the injured wrist. After a quick discussion with
my parents, I soon came to realise that it would probably be best if I did
drop out of the race. I thanked the man for his company over the last few
hundred metres and wished him well on the rest of his race. I watched him
slowly disappearing into the distance. I could not go any further and
likely the car was not too far away. My parents brought the car to my
current location and with some help from Dad I managed to get myself into
the vehicle. It was a slow rotten journey home - all the while I was
thinking once again this was it, the end of the road! I was thinking
that if my wrist were seriously damaged due to the reverb, then how could
I compete in the London Marathon?
That night I received a telephone call from
Bill who was concerned as he had not heard from me before the race or
during it, and was calling to find out how I had got on. I explained what
had happened and said that hopefully it was nothing too serious and that I
had put some Deep Heat on the affected area and taken some pain killers to
help with the pain. I then said that I had a hospital appointment
for my leg anyway tomorrow and if the pain in my wrist was still there in
the morning then I would ask one of the doctors to please examine it.
We talked for a little while longer and we come to the conclusion that the
main suspect for this injury was most likely the reverb in the racing
crutches. So by the end of the conversation the hunt was on for a new set
of gas spring cylinders. Bill then relayed our conversation to Harry
explaining the current position and requesting some new gas spring
cylinders, set to the right pressure level for my weight.
The next day I went to the hospital and was
informed after an x-ray that the cast could now be removed and that I
could once again start walking. This was obviously good news, and my wrist
seemed to be functioning again also. When I got home I tried to walk for
the first time in eight weeks. My first few steps where very painful
and it felt as if my heel was hollow. In fact it hurt so much that I
thought that maybe they had looked at the wrong x-ray and that the ankle
was still broken. Over the next few days I rested the ankle and kept it
well-supported. I tried to walk every day but I still had limited
movement. During Wednesday night's training session, Bill was able to tell
me that Harry had tracked down the manufacture of the gas springs who
where called IGS. As I started to train on the crutches with the
reverb problem still present the wrist injury started to aggravate me
again. So I stopped and sat down and I decided that I would try and
walk again. So I took off the cast once again and slowly slinked around
the field in a controlled walking manner. It was at the end of the
training session that Bill suggested that I do swimming to help improve
the range of movement. I took Bill up on his advice, and for the rest of
the week swam every day for about an hour. Gradually I could feel the
improvement and by the end of the week I was able to fully walk again -
yet I could still feel the weakness in the joint itself. It was Friday now
and I had made contact with IGS, and eventually spoke to Rob Bloom who had
kindly said that they would donate a set of gas springs and deliver them
to me free of charge, which was excellent news.
It was now only six days to the London
Marathon and the crutches were still not fixed due to the reverb problem.
IGS said that it would take about four working days before the gas springs
would arrive. I was also still recovering from the wrist injury. To try to
keep in condition, I was still swimming a mile every day. As the
days ticked away I was getting more and more nervous. When the gas springs
arrived I went over to Harry’s house and we assembled the crutches and
prepared everything for use on the 23rd. We then double
checked everything and the crutches where all ready for the big day. We
then made a spare pair of crutches, just in case something went wrong on
the day like in Worthing! The spare pair my parents would carry with them
on the marathon day and I would call them on my mobile phone if something
went wrong and they could then travel by underground and meet me with the
spare pair, so that I could continue in the race.
On Friday 21st April I spoke to
Bill and we planned a schedule for the race day, which incorporated what
mile marks I should rest at and where I should meet my parents with food.
I then packed my bags and prepared my kit for the morning as I would be
staying at my Nan’s house on the Saturday night as she lives in London,
and this means that I would have a lesser distance to travel on race
morning. On Saturday night I was completely prepared for the morning and I
now only required a good night’s sleep to help charge the batteries to
full capacity for tomorrow’s gruelling task ahead of me.
The great day dawns and I got up nice and
early to eat a huge breakfast, get dressed and bandage myself up for the
race. My parents then arrived and we drove as close as possible to the
race red start. We then parked the car and made our way to the start. On
my way to the start the adrenaline started to flow through my body. When I
got to the red start line in Greenwich Park, I sat down on a park bench
until the race was just about to begin so as to conserve my energy.
At this point I was sitting think about Adam - thinking which part of the
course he would be up to by now. I then heard a big cheer and the race had
begun, I got up from the bench, took off my jacket which was keeping me
warm and made my way to the back of the line.
 It
took quite a while before I actually got to the start line. Both fellow
runners and spectators where shocked and surprised to see me on crutches
as we were waiting, and I explained how I came to be in this situation. At
this point I felt good and the new gas springs seemed to be working well.
Then finally I had reached the start and went through the arch and over
the line. It felt amazing to be part of the crowd and being of equal
status as the rest of the runners. The other runners were responding well
to seeing someone do the race on crutches and if I felt a little tired or
out of breath then the constant supply of “well done” and “keep going”
spurred me on. All the training was paying dividends - moving rhythmically
and harmoniously in a machine-like manner. Ahead of me was a water
station and I decided that I would take a drink. I asked the lady who gave
me the bottle if she know what mile this station was at. When she replied
that it was about mile five, I was in complete shock as so far it all had
seemed quite effortless.
I then continued once again, looking forward
to meeting my family at the six mile mark. I had looked at the route quite
a few times but never really memorised it. I knew that when I got to the
Cutty Sark that I was roughly between the six and seven mile mark and was
looking out for my family. After a while it soon became apparent that they
were not there. I carried on regardless as I was feeling good and the
cheers of the crowd surged me on. Over the next few miles, I wondered
where my parents where. After a while this thought had settled and I
refocused on the job in hand, I was really concentrating on my breathing
and making sure that my stride was at the right pace. Once again I seemed
to have just been so focused on my rhythm that I lost track of the mile
marks. It was at this point that I decided that I would let my body
dictate my actions. If I felt good I would just power right on, and
if I felt a little worse for wear slow down until I regained my composure.
I had just passed the ten mile mark - this was
meant to be the second meeting point, but once again I could not see my
parents in the crowd. As my parents where carrying all my food supplies
plus bandages and other vital equipment I really needed to be meeting up
with them at the pre-arranged meeting points. When I reached the eleven
mile mark it had become apparent that the plans had gone out of the window
and that I would have to just deal with the situation. I was just coming
to the twelve mile mark when I started to feel the first signs of fatigue,
my stride was a little mis-timed, my breathing was heavy and my right foot
was hurting. I decided that I would stop at the next water station to have
a break and to re-catch my breath and then do a few wrist exercises. As I
was doing this a lady came running up behind me, whom I had met at a
previous race in Milton Keynes. I then re-started and a little while later
we both agreed to stay together until I met up with my parents.
As we were going, this lady boosted morale and
gave me great support. This was her second London Marathon so she knew the
course quite well and told me that we would soon be reaching the bridge.
Once again my sprits where lifted as this was the third point at which I
was meant to be meeting my family. As we went over the bridge the TV
camera had just been dismantled, but this didn’t matter as I was just
happy that I had got this far after my last few races had gone so badly.
This was one of my favourite parts of the course as it was a duel
carriageway and as I and my lady running friend were going up one side,
the rest of the runners was coming back along the other side. The lady
told me it [the other side of the road] was about the twenty-third
mile mark. The crowd were really fantastic at this point - really
screaming home the weary runners for their last three miles - and once
again I felt part of the race, unlike before where I was so far back that
the crowd had dispersed or just moved on to another part of the course.
But now it was really just me and my lady friend on one side of the duel
carriageway and our side of the crowd was going absolutely crazy which was
really driving us on and making the other runners on the other side look
over and cheer as well. Due to this I seemed to lose track once again by
getting caught up in the moment and before I knew it I was up to the
fifteen mile mark.
At this point I had never gone so far even on
both feet! However the next mile seemed to take forever and once
again my mind started to wonder where my family was. There were still
small dribs and drabs of the crowd and one man I spotted on a mobile
phone. When the race started I stupidly took off my jacket and gave it to
my Nan with my mobile phone inside the pocket and hopped off forgetting
about it, this was the reason why I had not contacted my family earlier.
So when I spotted the man on the phone, I quickly hopped over and asked if
I could borrow his mobile to call my family to find out where they where.
When I got through to them, they informed me that they were at the
eighteen mile mark and were now heading towards me. I asked why they
weren’t at the six and ten mile marks like we had planned, and they said
that when they got to the six mile mark underground station it was so busy
that they could not get out by the road. So they then went back on the
underground and did the same for the ten mile mark and the same thing
happened again. They then decided that they would go further afield and
just wait until I got to them. I explained to them that I was now really
tired and had hit the wall and felt completely exhausted and asked them to
follow the course back so that we could meet up as quickly as possible. I
then returned the man’s phone and started once again.
 I
was really tired now, and felt completely and utterly exhausted. I
had not stopped for ages and my left knee and foot were killing me through
cramp. But my running lady partner kept me going with words of
encouragement. It was at this point for the first time that we both began
to really speak as before we were both really out of breath and I was too
focused on the race. I found out the lady’s name was Rowan and she was
running for a charity called Scope and that she lived in Worcester with
her husband. I think that she could see that I was in a bad way and all I
could say was that I had definitely hit the wall and it was at this point
that I really had to start to fight. I then started to feel a bit faint
from lack of energy. Rowan offered me some of her Lucozade, but this
usually gives me hiccups which does not help matters. I just hoped that my
parents where walking quickly as they could towards me as I was really
struggling now.
Just when I thought that things could not get
any worse, my right wrist started to get that shooting pain in the joint
again. Before long my stride had evaporated into nothing and had gone from
at least fifty strides a minute to about one every fifteen seconds. Over
the space of two to three hundred metres my wrist had gone again. It was
my worst nightmare - what could I do now? I was about sixteen and
half miles into the course and every stride was pure agony. I just tried
to block the pain from my mind, but it’s hard to do that when you keep
thinking to yourself "only another nine and half miles left". Rowan was
superb, constantly cheering me on.
This was now the darkest hour of the race and
I honestly was considering pulling out at this point. I promised myself
that I would never let myself do this, but my wrist was now throbbing so
badly that I had lost all feeling in the tips of my fingers. I was in a
bad way and my 2006 London Marathon experience looked like it was going to
end on a bad note. I relayed my thoughts to Rowan and said that I did not
want to do permanent damage to my hands. She agreed, and I then said that
if I did not meet my parents before the end of the next bend then I would
call it a day and hopefully came back next year. I didn’t want to let my
sponsors down or the charity but I was at the end of the road.
I was approaching the bend when into view came
my family with my Dad dressed in the CRY heart costume. Finally! I
stopped and within in a minute they had reached me. After a quick
update of my condition a plan was formulated. I would cover myself from
head to toe in Deep Heat, take a few pain killers, eat a sandwich for some
energy, then take off the cast, bandage my right ankle heavily, put on my
right foot Asics running shoe and try and hobble the rest of the course.
The plan was a little crazy and I was a little worried about my weak
ankle, but at this point it was the only option other than quit. So I said
my farewells to my family and asked them to meet me at the twenty-three
mile mark for more food, pain killers and moral support which they agreed
to do. I then once again set off with Rowan. I thanked her for staying
with me and we began to start chatting again mainly to just take our minds
of the next hour of torture. I was now wearing the CRY heart costume which
also raised my moral massively. The crowd at this point was pretty
non-existent and so were other runners. London resembled that scene from
the film "28 Days Later" where London is like a ghost town.
I don’t know if it was the conversation, the
sandwich which I had just eaten, the pain killers, or all three - but I
suddenly felt revitalised. My right ankle was holding up well and the pair
of us were making good progress. It was a little frustrating as we were so
far behind now that they had started to take down the mile marker signs,
so we were not completely sure whereabouts we were. But together we were
relentless and marched (or hobbled) on at a good pace, all things
considered. It was by this point that I had managed to master the art of
blocking out all pain and negative thoughts from entering my mind. I was
like a robot programmed for one task - to finish this race. Due to this
the next six miles were a complete blur and miles seemed to just merge
into the next one. It was only when I saw my parents, at mile
twenty-three, I realised just how far I had come. I remember saying
something like “meet me at the finish”.
I was on a mission and I just couldn’t stop,
mostly from fear of not being able to start again if I did stop to speak.
My parents shouted back that they would see me there and set off for the
nearest tube station. Just as I reached the twenty fourth mile mark I was
met by the second group of familiar faces, which was Adam and his family.
Adam had kindly stuck around to see his friend finish the race. When I saw
Adam the first thing that came to mind was how bad he looked and I told
him so. I said “you look how I feel” and we chatted as we walked along by
the embankment. It was at this point that Rowan turned to me and said that
she was going to jog on as she wanted to finish before eight hours. I
thanked her for all her help and then she was gone. So now it was only two
and a bit miles left. The pain killers seemed to have lost there bite and
pain's ugly head reared itself once again. Adam said that he could no long
carry on and would also meet me at the finish line with my parents. For
company Adam's Dad (Paul) and Sister (Lela) said that they would keep with
me and keep me going for the last thirty minutes of my journey.
I was just approaching Big Ben when it started
to chime for six o’clock. Less than a mile left - "I can do this just keep
going" I kept telling myself. Paul and Lela were excellent over this last
mile - they knew that it was all psychological at this point and just kept
setting me targets, which I would push myself to complete. My left knee
felt like a car engine with no oil and had completely seized up, and in
strange turn of events my injured right leg was powering me along. My body
was falling apart bit by bit, could I make it? I dragged my lifeless
left leg - it was like a dead weight. I once again met up with my family
and friends who accompanied me up until the last hundred metres or so
until I had to go it alone. The support was great but I was now fed up and
desperately tired and irritable. The finish line was in sight and all I
could think about was the last hardest 800 metres of my life and then it
was over! I comically finished the race how I had started the race - with
a hop. I could not believe what I had achieved, all the crowd had now
gone.
My next worry was how I
was going to get to the car, because I could not walk or use crutches
through sheer pain and exhaustion. I had too much pride to expect my
friends and family to carry me or take me to an ambulance. After
completing the marathon I then needed to relieve myself front and back. I
noticed in the distance a mass of portaloos. At this point I was in a kind
of zombie-like trance where I seemed to move without awareness.
After inspection of my first choice portaloo I soon discovered the absence
of toliet paper. So then through random choice of selection I chose
another - still no paper - and another and another. While my bodily
functions were still processing, I was coming close to desperation to obey
the call of nature and wondered what would happen soon if I did not find
the elusive paper! Finally hitting the jackpot toilet, I hastily
entered holding my nose. My gaze then fell upon the sink - this was
crammed with pairs of poo-stained knickers! The irony of the situation
caused me to explode with laughter, which brought me back to life. I then
exited the portaloos and made my way to my family and then we went to the
tube station. While I sat on the underground train, I soon realised how
much I had accomplished and how much money we had raised for CRY.
Job done!
Peter Snell
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