No going back now! I managed to pack almost everything I
needed for my trip to the West Country – there seemed t be so much to remember!
Train tickets and times, the B&B and how to get there from the station,
booking details, money to pay for it, tickets to Bath for Race Day, camera,
Garmin, meter, strips, insulin pens and needles and sundry medications, changes
of clothes, toiletries, Kindle to read
on the train, reading glasses. hypo treatments and snacks, phone, and of course
the fairy outfit – socks, dress, wand, wig and wings! The only thing I forgot
was the phone, which was still sat there happily charging away on the table at
home when I was about fifteen minutes into the journey, and would still be sat
there when I got home two days later!
Bristol was already warm when I arrived, not hot, but
worryingly warm for someone contemplating running thirteen miles clad in the
world’s finest nylon accoutrements. After spending a very pleasant afternoon
with some of the forum members, and trying desperately hard to avoid drinking
beer in the pub, I retired for an evening in front of the telly back at the
B&B, and hopefully a peaceful night’s sleep. Unfortunately, I hardly slept
at all, partly because I was so worried about not waking up in time and missing
the race. The way these events are run, you have to be there in plenty of time
before the start – runners would be called to the start a whole hour before the
gun, and I also had to consider the train journey and time to get to the venue
and get changed. A rich person would probably have stayed at the Carfax Hotel
on Great Pulteney Street, from where they could have walked down the stairs
from their room to the start line in about a minute. However, I am not a rich
person, so for me the day started with a twenty five minute walk, a train
journey and another ten minute walk to the start!
At the DUK stand before the race
They advise you not to do anything differently on Race Day
to what you would normally do on one of your long training runs. This is not
possible, firstly because of the reasons I’ve just stated above, but also, as
an insulin-dependent diabetic, I have to time my food and injections so that I
have sufficient of both at the right time to get me through the race. On a
training run I decide when this conjunction of circumstances will occur, but
with the race starting at 11 am, I had to think long and hard about how I might
achieve it. If I ate and injected around 7:30 then I would have little
circulating insulin remaining at 11:00. On the other hand, I didn’t really want
to wait until much later to eat and inject because my blood sugar rises if I
don’t have food an insulin shortly after rising.
In the end I decided I would get up early enough to inject
and eat so that it would be time for my next meal around an hour before the
start. I decided against partaking of the continental breakfast offered by the
hotel, with its unpredictable carbs, and had a pot of instant porridge made up
with hot water from the kettle. Normally, I would just have a slice of Burgen
toast which is about half the carbs of the porridge, but I didn’t want to risk
giving myself too much insulin so erred on the side of caution, expecting to be
on the high side when I got to Bath. Injecting at 5:30 meant that most of the
insulin would be ‘done’ by around 9:30, when I planned to have a cereal bar and
more insulin to get me through the race.
I decided to go for one of the earlier trains, just in case
there were delays or overcrowding on the later trains, so set off at around
7:55. It was a reassuringly damp, cool and misty morning, although the forecast
was for a warm, calm and sunny day ahead. Typically, I had missed a bus by a
couple of minutes so I decided to walk to the station at a gentle pace. It took
about twenty five minutes and I was already feeling warm at the end of it.
There were already hundreds of runners on the platform, so I walked to one end
where there were some seats and decided to test my blood. Problem number one –
try as I might, I couldn’t get any blood out of my fingers. It was then I
realised that there were no lancets in the finger-pricker! This was the finger
pricker I had planned to take on the course with me, so a good job I had tried
to use it beforehand! Luckily, I had another finger-pricker – my normal
‘everyday’ one – so succeeded in the test. I was 4.2 mmol/l! Will omeone please
tell me how, when I have eaten more carbs than usual, reduced insulin, and had
a gentle walk of a mile or so, my levels were half what they would have been if
I’d my usual carbs and insulin and gone for a five-mile run?!!! I popped in a
couple of jelly babies to top myself up!
Stupid spibelt!
The train arrived on time and we all piled on. The train was
actually the Cardiff to London service, and I felt very sorry for anyone who
was getting on at Bristol who wasn’t a runner as it was quickly standing room
only! I’d managed to bag a seat though, so had a relatively comfortable
journey. We were delayed for about ten minutes coming into Bath Spa, for no
apparent reason (none was given), and finally offloaded onto the crowded
platform. I hadn’t bothered to print off details of how to get to the Runner’s
Village from the station since I (quite correctly) assumed I would just be able
to follow the other runners.
It was fairly busy in the Village, with everyone milling around
in their running kit. What alarmed me slightly though was that, scanning across
the multitude, I could not discern a single person in a costume! Surely I
wasn’t going to be the only one! I plucked up my courage and entered the male
changing tent, fairy outfit in hand…
Lots of very serious-looking runners stretching and applying
their various salves and balms to ward off cramps and friction injuries turned
their eyes towards me as I donned my gossamer gown. I informed them that it was
quite possible I would be in the wrong changing tent by the time I had
completed my transformation…
Since it was now around 1:20 before the start, I injected
and ate my cereal bar. Testing before the injection showed that my two jelly
babies (and possibly a late peak from the porridge) had raised my levels to
10.4 mmol/l. I included a correction unit of insulin, but was a little worried
that, since it was now much later in the morning, my insulin sensitivity might
have increased so that my ratios would be closer to my lunchtime than my
breakfast ones. I didn’t want to risk giving myself too little or too much, so
I asked myself ‘What would Goldilocks do?’ and plumped for a dose that was
somewhere in the middle of the doses I had been contemplating. Not very
scientific, I know!
I stepped out into the village and instantly started to
receive amused glances. I was a little downhearted when the reply to my
question ‘Does my bum look big in this?’ received the reply ‘Yes, I’m afraid it
does!’ I decided to go and find the Diabetes UK stall where a couple of young
ladies showed a little trepidation as I approached them in all my glory. We
chatted a little about DUK and also DWED, the chief reason for my somewhat
unusual appearance. They took a couple of pictures of me and then, with a wave
of my silvery wand, I was gone and off to the start line! At this point I had
yet to see another person in costume…
Scanning the crowds assembled at the start, I spotted two
people who were clearly not in Nike so I decided to go and have a chat with
them. They turned out to be two young students, Charlie and Miami, who were
dressed rather splendidly as Dastardly and Muttley. It was their first event
and they were a little worried about the heat as the Sun was now beating down
on us and tere was nary a cloud in sight. Charlie was concerned that she might
get sunburnt in the shape of her Muttley outfit on her face, and given that I
ended up catching the Sun on my décolletage, I imagine her worst fears proved
true!
Miami and Charlie aka Dastardly and Muttley!
The announcer counted down and the starting gun went off!
Nobody moved. By now, the elite men had probably covered a few hundred yards and were well into their
first mile. We all moved forward slightly, then stopped again. There were
probably something like ten thousand people in front of us, and it takes a few
minutes to get everyone moving safely. Finally, we could all take a few steps
forward, then move from a slow walk to a gentle jog. Off in the distance the
actual start line appeared and as we approached a tremendous cacophony built
up, formed by the thousands of computer chips registering as the runners passed
over the mats at the true beginning of the race. I pressed the button on my
Garmin so I would be able to keep an eye on my position throughout the race.
After a couple of minutes there was a gentle downhill
section, and it was whilst running down this that I discovered I had a problem,
possibly a big one. I was wearing a spibelt around my waist which contained my
meter and finger-pricker, novorapid pen and needles, hypo treatments and
general sustenance and my small camera. On a training run I would not normally
be carrying so much stuff, but I hadn’t wanted to leave my camera in my bag and
it fitted neatly into one of the pouches so I thought it would be fine.
Unfortunately, it appeared that the weight of all the objects was too much for
the normally unnoticeable belt and it began bouncing up and down as I ran. In
fact, it began bouncing mostly down and began to slip off my waist, threatening
to wrap itself round my ankles like a bolas! For the next couple of miles I had
to keep trying to pull it back up which really disrupted the beginning of my
run. Not a great start.
I finally decided
that, since even tucking it into my shorts beneath my costume didn’t
work, I had to stop and sort it out, so at the first water station I walked on
a little way and stopped to consider how
to solve the problem. I decided that the only thing that was vaguely likely to
work would be if I strung it across my shoulder in the manner of a holster, which
was a bit awkward because my wings got in the way! I got going again and it
seemed satisfactory, although I was very aware that it was now rubbing on the
side of my neck. Sure enough, I am still suffering from a sore neck two days
later!
It was only really at this point, having got the niggling
problem more or less sorted, that I began to notice what was going on around
me. The crowds were absolutely fantastic in their support! I was no longer some
anonymous runner, undistinguishable from the motley crown – I was ‘fairy’,
‘fairy godmother’, ‘angel’ and (from a group of student lads drinking beer by a
roadside pub) ‘weird fairy-man’! Every time I rounded a corner or came into
view I would get a loud, enthusiastic cheer, which gave me a real boost and I waved
my wand vigourously back at them. It was so lovely especially to see little
children mouth the word ‘fairy’ with pure enchantment in their voices and faces
as their parents pointed me out. I only hope that the experience hasn’t scarred
them for life!
As we approached five miles the marshalls asked us to keep
to the left as the lead runners were coming through. They were, effectively,
around six miles in front of us on the two-lap course, and came flying past at
an unbelievable pace. When you are used to being surrounded by
less-than-perfect specimens of the human race it can be quite a surprise to
encounter such athletic perfection as it rapidly recedes into the distance. As
the race progressed, the elite came past in ever-increasing groups and their pace
gradually declined until it more or less matched the rest of us and I realised
at that point that probably all the good runners had finished by now and we
were in fact at the tail-end of the race…
I quite enjoyed the fact that it was a two-lap race. This
meant that we got to see the front runners, and also meant that by the time I
reached the second lap things started to become familiar. This included many of
the people who had cheered me on the first time, and now did so again with
equal gusto, as if they were old friends I had known all my life! One
particularly familiar face stood out as I passed seven miles when I heard my
name (Alan, rather than ‘fairy’!) and turned to see Shiv who had come out to
cheer me on! I stopped and had a brief chat (glad of it as there was a little
uphill section just ahead). As I set off again up the hill I was really
surprised at what a boost it have given me to see someone I actually know and
it felt like a new lease of life with just six miles remaining.
After about another mile I decided that it would be prudent
to check my blood sugar levels, so I stopped off by one of the first aid
checkpoints where the medical-looking procedure wouldn’t look out of place and
in case there were any squeamish spectators around. I was pleased to see that I
was at 5.3 mmol/l, just about perfect, so my strategy before the race was
obviously working well. I had a couple of jelly babies to sustain me through
the remaining five miles.
By this point the heat was definitely taking its toll. I
wasn’t actually tired and my legs felt quite strong, but I found I had to run
and walk for the remainder of the course as I quickly began to overheat during
the running sections. I put on a couple of Usain Bolt-style sprints to amuse
the crowds and got a great response. As I passed a small family group I asked
them if I was winning and the all laughed, which I took to mean that I had
probably blown my chances of taking the top step of the podium. In fact,
thinking about it, by now the winners would have had their presentations and no
doubt be back in their hotels having a nice long soak in their ice-baths –
luxury!
As we approached two miles to go I found myself in the
company of a large group of extremely fit-looking Frenchmen who were carrying
between them two chair-like structures containing children. The children looked
very happy and the Frenchmen were full of enthusiasm as they chanted and sang
as they ran. I also came across a young man dressed from head to toe in a lion
outfit who actually looked hotter than me. He had removed the head and was
carrying it beneath his arm like in the song by Stanley Holloway. It might have
seemed like a good idea at the time as he started training in the cold winter
months, but here on the hottest day of the year so far it was proving very
difficult. We sympathised with each other and decided as we reached the final
corner onto Great Pulteney Street that we would pick up speed and keep going to
the finish.
Me and The Lion
The clock on the finish gantry showed 2 hours 56 minutes as I
sprinted (!!!) triumphantly through, the lion at my side. Taking into account
the fact it had taken me nearly six minutes to get past the start line, my
actual finish (or ‘chip’) time was 2 hours and 51 minutes. I stopped my Garmin
as I crossed and looked down – it showed 13.28 miles covered in 2 hours and 42
minutes, which confused me for quite a few minutes until I realised that the
Garmin stops timing when you are not moving – I had been still for nine minutes
variously adjusting my spibelt, talking to Shiv and testing my levels!
As I made my way through the finish, collecting my goody bag
and having my race chip removed I heard the radio commentator interviewing
Charlie and Miami aka Dastardly and Muttley who had finished about fime minutes
after me. It was good to hear their enthusiasm as the both said how much they
had enjoyed themselves and would definitely be doing it again! I might have had
an interview myself, but the large party of Frenchmen had finished immediately
before me and both me and the lion passed by unnoticed. A shame, as I would
have liked to have got a plug in for DWED.
Once in the changing tent (again, lots of amused glances!) I
tested and found myself to be 4.1 mmol/l, so pretty darned perfect I thought! I
topped up with a couple of jelly babies, pleased that my levels had behaved
well and not caused me any problems – after all, this was actually my longest
run since The Hague half marathon exactly four years previously, which was
three months before I was diagnosed.
Getting back to the B&B after a very cramped train
journey back to Bristol I managed to get a few minutes on the lobby computer so
I could let people know on the forum that I had made it. I was choked up to see
that, in my absence, the members had rallied to help me reach my sponsorship
target – how fantastic! All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my day, despite the
physical distress I went through. The event was extremely well managed and
supported fantastically by the public and running in costume had made the whole
occasion extra-special because of all the superb encouragement I got from the
crowds. I’m already planning my next one!
Time 2
hours 42 mins (plus 9 mins stationary!)
Distance 13.28
miles
Pace 12:16
per mile
BG before 8.5
mmol/l
BG during 5.3
mmol/l
BG after 4.1
mmol/l