The First Week's Marathon Training

Right, so I started my goal on 10th March and we're already over two weeks into my training 'regime,' so I'd better let you know how I'm getting on.
The first day was hard. I had been out of work early, hitting the pub with around 40 colleagues, which involved lots of beer and lots of cigarettes, starting at around 4PM and finishing after 10.30PM. This is when I decided, having just bought a pack of 20 cigarettes, that I didn't really want or need them. I had just found out I had a place in a marathon in Bordeaux in September, so I thought the sooner I kick this habit the better! Having just spent over £6 on them, a hell-bent fury creased over my face and, after crunching them up I threw them into a bin across the street. Looking around, I was slightly disappointed to see that nobody had noticed my amazing feat.

Waking up in a groggy state the following morning, I realised that I had to be at work, and that we were holding a wine tasting in the evening for our customers, which would go on until around 11PM! No running today then - except to the station as I had slept in, missing my first train. The day was long, yet I had remembered my pact last night to not smoke and had my first day for over a year without smoking. I was tired after the tasting, but felt good. I rewarded myself with a glass of Champagne.

The next day was the day of the first run. I knew I would be exhausted, but had set my alarm early to get out in the fresh air. It was hammering it down with rain. I hit snooze on my alarm. As I slowly drifted back into slumber, the pesky alarm went again (a lot of research must have gone into that standard 9-min snooze time!) and I jolted out of my soft, warm paradise (bed) and threw on some suitable attire, and tumbled out of the door into the perishing, bitter rain. It was horrific. I set out at a ridiculous pace to try and warm up, but after around 300m my ankles felt as though they were about to fall off and I couldn't breathe. I adopted a much slower pace, and managed to cover 1.5 miles in around 20 minutes. It was a start!

After a really long day on Saturday (yes, I work in retail so weekends are the busiest days!), I managed to go for another run in the evening after work. The same route, 1.5 miles in around 20 minutes. My legs were still aching like hell from yesterday (and having stood on my feet all day), yet it was exhilarating - the wind in my hair and the blood pumping around my body made me feel like I was flying.

Sunday 14 March - off work and trainer buying day. I ran across the Thames to a specialist running shop, over 2 miles away! OK, there was quite a bit of walking involved, but who cares! I spent £55 on a pair of new Mizunos, which were so light it felt as if I wasn't wearing footwear. Donning these, I jogged/walked back (I prefer to call it Scout's pace), and then went to the gym. This was a massive error, as whilst on the rowing machine in my new trainers, the shoelaces somehow undid themselves and instead of stopping to rectify this problem, I carried on rowing. After finishing out of breath, I realised I had the most agonisingly painful blisters on the heel of my left foot - ouch! I haven't been able to wear my new trainers since - they are still in their box in my porch!

After a rest day on Monday, Tuesday was my mum's birthday, so I headed off back to West Sussex, which was bathed in glorious sunshine. I still hadn't smoked, and was really looking forward to getting out and about in the Sussex countryside that I grew up in. It was beautiful - the fresh and clean air, forest dirt tracks and rolling fields made me feel a world away from London. I went on a bit of an epic run - 8 miles, including a complete lap around the spectacular Petworth Park, a National Trust gem that feels like an English wilderness. The 8 miles involved quite a lot of walking, but I didn't care. I was just appreciating the outdoors, for the first time in years. I slept well that night.

I had gone a week without a cigarette, and even though my fitness was still appallingly bad, I felt slightly more confident that I could run a marathon. Earlier in the week I didn't think I could even do this, let alone achieve my ridiculous time of under 3 hours, but now there was a glimpse of possibility. I had run 8 miles (OK, run and walked) in 1.5 hours, but this was as far as I'd run since my teens, and after less than a week of training. I didn't want to bite off too much at such an early stage, as any injuries would seriously harm my plan, but today had given me a glimmer of hope. I was starting to despair, thinking I was past my prime, dead and buried. Now I knew that I could do it, and that if I trained without going off the rails, I could really achieve something amazing...

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