Marathon running and why my body is amazing

Five years ago or so, shortly before Ruby died, I started to seriously consider my health and age for the first time. Not long after this I became vegetarian and have also kept an eye on my ingested food and gin calories (I had stopped smoking a few years before then- I went from a heavy 30 roll-ups-a-day to zero in one day, cold turkey). I was motivated by a colleague from work, George, who had started running not long before and was not only reaping obvious physical and mental health benefits but wouldn't shut up about it. So I bought the cheapest kit I could, downloaded the NHS "Couch to 5k" podcast, joined the local gym and jumped on a treadmill for the first time in my life. 

I loved it. I found the training quite an endeavour but it was manageable and, most importantly, achievable. As the nine week programme of walk/run/walk/run/walk intensified I was running 20 minutes non-stop by the end of week six and this was when I left the treadmill, waved the gym a happy goodbye and started to run outside. 

This was a life-changing event for me, my rebirth as "a runner". I have run without any major injury for nearly every week since then. I have run on my birthdays, on Christmas Day, at midnight, with a hangover, with a cold, through snow, on holiday, up hills, on roads, barefoot. I ran within a month of Ruby dying and within a week of Mum dying- I had to, I was compelled- I run to stave off depression and to maintain a consistent plateau of wellness. 

In January this year I started training for the Belfast marathon. I had been running two short runs and one long run of around 10-15 miles each week but it was time to crank up the energy and really push myself. So I then caught two nasty bugs and was out of action for a month.

But a month ago I joined the gym again, learnt how to use free weights and machines and set up an intense training programme. I attend the gym twice a week for strength and stability training plus once more for hill running (the treadmill again but the runs are short and very intense) and I have one long run outside at the weekend. The long run has been deliberately extended by 2 km each week so even though I was running a regular 18-22 km until last month, I ran 32 km (20 miles) a few days ago, the longest I have ever run, which is the typical maximum training distance that a first time marathon runner would aim for. 

So I am at my training goal, 20 miles. I hope to complete this distance two of three more times and then have an easy week or two before the marathon. I will continue to harbour fantasies of completing ultra-marathons (races over 26 miles, typically 50 to a hundred miles or more) but, for now, the marathon is in my sights. 

My training path has been, as far as I am aware, typical but has also been surprising in some ways- my gym membership, anathema as it always had been to the old me, has proven its cost. Certainly I get out what I put in and I have seen and felt obvious changes within only a few weeks, my stamina increasing and flexibility improving. Most startling of all is the ease with which I have increased the distance on my long run, 2 km week after week, although the muscles and tendons in my feet have struggled to keep up- my soles are bruised for days after each run and I have to hobble and stretch to recover. 

Rest days are considered "active rest" days. I perform a series of gentle stretching exercises for all major muscle groups, use a foam roller to help muscle recovery and carry out a set of lower leg strengthening excersises, useful for barefoot running. I don't actually run in bare feet very often but it is the term denoting a style or form of running signified by a forefoot strike as the foot reaches the ground instead of heel-striking, typical of most runners. Forefoot striking is the oldest and most natural way of running and, when not totally barefoot, I run in huaraches, Mexican running sandals which are, essentially, a thin layer of hard rubber held onto the foot by a strap. They do away with the sharpest of stones and broken glass but let me feel underfoot as if I wear nothing  at all. Traditionally they were made from cut up car tyres. 

Having never been a fan of my body I am now much more respectful as to what I never thought it could achieve. I have had no serious injuries during the entire time I have been running (only one twisted knee and one sore foot putting me off for a few weeks each) and, after an MOT by my GP recently and a thorough medical assessment at hospital prior to elective surgery (that in the end wasn't necessary) I know that, although my BMI would suggest I am "obese" I am in very good health and can outrun almost everyone I know. I am extremely appreciative of my good health and the physiology that will allow me to run a marathon, something only 1% of people have done. My joints can hold up my obese body for mile after mile, in comfort and in fact for fun. My bare feet will cover the distance that my hunter-gatherer ancestors have filled their days with for two million years. My obese, wobbly, middle-aged, greying, balding flabby body is amazing. It is aesthetically embarrassing but anatomically awe-inspiring and for those particular reasons, in those ways, I love it.

Baring injury I might just make those 26.2 miles on 1st May.