I have come to the conclusion - and possibly it's not a startling one, because it's probably patently obvious to those in the know - but I have reached the conclusion that fundraising is really hard work. Seriously, it is. In some ways, it's harder work than the training I've got to do to be able to complete these events. Okay, the training is hard work too. There are motivational and tiredness issues, but once I get out there (and I have always managed to get myself out there so far) I quite enjoy it. Even the swimming. Really. But raising funds for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal is really quite difficult and also requires a degree of dedication which I hadn't quite thought about when I took this challenge on.
I suppose that is why charities and hospitals employ fundraisers to work on their behalf. They wouldn't be paying people to hold these positions if it wasn't hard work, and I have to say, I now have a new respect for the people who do hold these posts. Hats off to them - it's a very difficult job.
When I first thought about running the Greats for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal and set about putting my plan into action as a serious fundraising attempt, I have to admit, I really didn't think too much about the target amount of money I set myself to raise when I set up my "Justgiving" donation page. There was something almost frivolously easy in the way I gaily typed in £3,000 in the "target amount to be raised" box, as I set the page up. I really didn't think about it too much at all. Now, one month in (and, okay, it's only one month in and there's plenty of time to get there yet), but it has suddenly occurred to me that £3,000 is a lot of money. I mean, it's three thousand pounds. What was I thinking when I typed that figure into that box? People don't part with any amount of money easily and to reach the three thousand pounds target, I'm going to have to persuade a lot of people to donate.
Therefore, with this in view, I have decided to contact EVERYBODY I have ever known. Yes, no matter how slight or tenuous the connection, I have been attempting to contact everyone in the entire history of my life who might remember me, no matter how slightly, and thus have an interest in supporting me, just a little bit. This has involved tracking people down (mainly using Facebook and the Friends Reunited web sites) and sending lots and lots of emails. In fact, every single night, I spend at least an hour at the computer, sending emails, letting people know about what I'm doing and asking them if they'd be willing to lend their support. My husband, who is slightly sick of the time the training is taking out of our lives, and sick as a dog about the fact that he's got to look after the kids for the duration of the ten events I am participating in, is also getting sick of me hogging the computer all the time.
But it's not just tracking down old friends and sending out emails. I've also joined a University alumni group and posted a message on their website, pleading for sponsorship as well as sending an email to the people who run the University alumni newsletter which is sent out periodically, asking if they'll include a paragraph about what I'm doing in their next publication. (No response so far, but maybe they don't want to draw attention to the fact that one of their alumni has clearly gone off her rocker in even considering this challenge in the first place).
And then I thought of another idea to publicise the fact that I'm running the greats for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal. I thought "I know, I'll have a couple of t-shirts printed up to publicise the fact that when people do see me limping down the road in an attempt at running, they'll know that I am actually doing it for a purpose. I'll put my Just Giving web page address on my shirts, and who knows, someone might see it, and sponsor me." So I went to a t-shirt printing shop in town.
I'm not going to name them. I'm not. I'm not naming them for two reasons: (1) I don't have a single good thing to say about the service this shop has offered, and if I name them, well they might sue me or something like that; and (2) I haven't got my hands on the t-shirts they agreed to print for me and which, I hasten to add, I have paid for, yet, and I don't want them to get cross with me and print something obscene on the back or anything like that.
I suppose I should have realised I was going to have a hard time. The man in the shop who dealt with my enquiry - and I don't want to be mean here - but he didn't seem the brightest spark in the world. He asked me what I was doing and I explained that I was running the greats for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal, and that I would also be completing the Great North Swim, which was a mile through open water on Windermere. Maybe he wasn't listening to me properly or something like that. Maybe the explanation of what I am doing was deficient somehow, but his next question was: "You're running? Through water?" What can you say to that. "Well, kind of. Only it's called swimming and it's really, really important that you don't stop."
Anyway, I had taken the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal logo down to the shop on a disk. It was a disk which the man's computer was completely unable to open. Fair enough - these things happen - technology issues, etc. We worked through the wording which was going to be appearing on the t-shirts I had taken in (when I say "worked through", this involved me typing the wording into his computer whilst he chatted to his mate) and agreed that I would email the logo to him later that day, which I did. He promised that the t-shirts would be ready by the end of the week and that he would call me when they were ready. Well, Friday came around and no phone call, so I thought I'd give them a call, just to see how they were getting on. The first time I got through whoever answered the phone said "Look, can you call back. I've got a shop full of people here." (Hmmm, very professional approach, I thought), but I called them back an hour later anyway, only to be told that their email was broken (why hadn't they phoned to tell me this at the beginning of the week?) and as such my t-shirts had just been left on the side. "Could I go in, with a disk with the logo on?". I explained that I had already done that, and that they had been unable to open it. They told me to save it as a different format and bring another disk in. I was cross, I have to admit. I was cross because they really didn't seem to care about the fact that they hadn't done the job which I had paid them for. Plus, it really wasn't that convenient to have to go all the way into town again with another disk, but it was patently obvious that unless I did take the disk, I was never going to see my t-shirts again, despite the fact that I had paid them already for the job they had no intention of putting themselves to any trouble to complete.
So I went into town with another disk. There was a MASSIVE traffic jam on the way in and it took me about forty minutes to cover three miles (you can imagine what sort of mood that put me in). Plus, I was in danger of being late for work (I took the disk in on my way to my evening shift at the bookies), so I literally ran into the shop, flung the new disk at the numpty on the desk and ran out again. He promised that I'd be able to collect my t-shirts by the middle of next week, but I'm not holding my breath. I seem to have heard those sorts of promises from them before.
Still, perhaps it will be worth it when I get the t-shirts. Perhaps loads of people out there will see me out training and sponsor me as a result. I hope so. I seem to have put an awful lot of effort into raising money for my cause but not seemed to have got very far. I suspect this is how the full-time professional fundraisers feel everyday of their lives, unless they have a really, really good day. It's frustrating and time-consuming, and worse, it's becoming something of an obsession. I find myself going on and on about it to my friends (who probably feel pressured into sponsoring me and are probably sick of hearing about it). I find myself plotting new ways to bring my campaign to the attention of people who might sponsor me. I worry about it all the time.
And then, there are the people who I don't want to find out about my campaign.
That sounds really odd, but permit me to elaborate. Obviously, as I have explained, I have spent the last month contacting everyone I can think of who might sponsor me and telling them about the challenge I have set for myself. This, of course, includes my family. My sister "Pompey", was the first person to sponsor me on my justgiving web page. The one person I haven't told is my Mum. I've got to admit, I'm really, really afraid to. She's a real worrier, my Mum, and I just don't know how she's going to react when she finds out about all of the running and swimming (particularly the swimming - my Mum, after all, will remember how I singularly failed to learn to swim until I was twelve years' old, despite the fact that she must have paid hundreds of pounds out in swimming lessons). Therefore, I have been in the slightly odd position where, at thirty-six years' old, I have been emailing people and letting them know about what I am doing and asking for their support, but if these people know my Mum at all, I have had to add the appendage "But don't mention it to my Mum - I haven't quite got around to telling her about it yet." It's ridiculous. I am, after all, as I have said, thirty-six years' old. Much too old to be afraid of my Mum and her reactions when she finds out... So next week, hardest task of all so far in the fundraising (apart from possibly getting those .... to print my t-shirts up) is to come clean, 'fess up and tell her what's I'm doing. I don't know how she'll take it. I'll let you know next week.
Sunday, 28 September 2008
Sunday, 21 September 2008
A Bit Tired...
When my eldest son was smaller, say about two years' old or something like that, he got into the habit of appending the word "bit" to everything he said. He was "a bit hungry.." or "a bit hot..." or, alternatively, "a bit cold..." Or, he'd been "a bit sick..." (this would be to explain the fact that his bed had been transformed into a sea of vomit after contracting a particularly nasty tummy bug - and I know just how nasty it was because I caught it myself a couple of days later...) This could also be applied to describe things other than his own feelings. For instance, the snail he had just trod on would be "a bit dead..." You get the picture. Anyway, for some reason, describing himself as "a bit tired..." was a favourite of his. (This must surely have been due to the fact that the little bugger absolutely refused to have any daytime naps after the age of sixteen months. Never a big fan of sleeping anyway, after he hit the age of sixteen months, sleeping in the daytime was suddenly a big no-no, and despite him clearly still needing this crucial nap in the afternoon, he would stubbornly refuse to give in and just have the sleep he needed. This led, as you can imagine, if you are a parent, to lots AND LOTS of tiredness related whingeing/tantrums usually culminating in him sobbing plaintively somewhere (too close) to the vicinity of my eardrum "....Bit tired, Mummy.... Bit tired..." And the only solution you were able to offer was a cuddle, because for some reason snapping "Well, go to bloody sleep then," which is what you wanted to do, didn't work.
Anyway, this week, I've felt "a bit tired" myself. In the first instance, I've had a cold. It's not been a particularly bad one, but I've felt it because I haven't had one for a while, and it's the first one (probably of many) of the Winter months to come. As a result of this, I've felt a bit tired and a bit out of sorts and I really didn't want to go swimming one bit on Tuesday night. I mean, like, really didn't want to go. But then I thought, okay, I've got a cold. It's kind of a valid excuse, BUT if I start making excuses NOW, at this early stage in proceedings, I really have just had it. I know myself; I'll make excuse after excuse, week after week, and when the time actually comes around I will just drown in Windermere, because I won't be able to do the swim. So I went and did my swimming session. How is that for commitment? I stand in awe of myself. I actually went.
I did alright as well, if I do say so myself. I was slightly alarmed by how cold the water temperature felt in Pond's Forge. The display in the foyer clearly indicated that the International Pool was 27 degrees. When I got in, however, it felt really, really cold. Which does not bode well, when the organisers of the Great North Swim have indicated that the temperature in Windermere in September (the time of the swim) will be around 15 degrees. (I suppose it might encourage me to swim faster if it feels really, really, really cold). I couldn't swim much slower, that's for sure. Even though I'm swimming in the slow lane, I'm constantly being lapped by other (slow?) swimmers. Still, speed is not important in endurance events. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. (It might be important - It might, for instance, start to matter if I'm still swimming the mile and night starts to fall, or something along those lines, but I'm sure I will speed up. You have to remember, after all, I am very new at this).
I swam twenty lengths, which I worked out (and I never was that good at maths, so I might be wrong here), but I worked it out to be one kilometre (20 x 50m lengths = 1k). I only need to add another .6 of a kilometre to add to that and I've done it! I've done the mile! How's that for progress? I'm still swimming in a bit of a funny way, though, I must admit. I do still definitely need to look into that lesson. I also need to remember to take my wedding ring off before I get in the pool each week. I'm so terrified of losing it that I have ended up swimming with my hand all scrunched up, and this resulted in cramp in my hand last week, as well as being detrimental to my swimming style, which is poor anyway. Still, all these negative points aside, being as I was actually ill at the time, I was quite pleased with myself.
I also managed the running part of the training. Yes, I have fulfilled my quota of two runs per week, this week, despite the cold and feeling a bit tired. There is, I have noted, a serious problem with running in Sheffield. It's so hilly. You just end up running uphill for ages and then following this with long periods of (usually steep) downhill sections. On balance, I decided last week, whilst I was running down Carterknowle Road and my knees were killing me, that I prefer the uphill to the down. I know this sounds strange; and don't get me wrong, I find running uphill very, very hard. However, it's easier on the knees than the long sections of downhill routes. Also, running uphill, I can feel my body working; I'm out of breath, my heart's pumping faster, and, surely, this is all contributing to improvements in my overall fitness? However, on the downhill sections, I feel that I'm covering distance, but I'm barely out of breath and I don't think that it's really doing that much for me, from an improving fitness point of view. One of the very generous people who have sponsored me on my justgiving page this week pointed out that I need to train smarter to be able to gain the necessary fitness to complete the events I have promised I will. He told me that intelligent training will mean that this entire insane project will have less impact on family time, because I'll need to spend less time training, but I'll still be able to do the events, and comfortably. He's right. He's so right. And I don't think that wasting valuable time running down hills and potentially injuring my knees is tantamount to "training smarter". What I need is to find an uphill version of Powder Park.
Now, any of you who has ever visited France during the winter months may have come across a slightly (very) dodgy teen-drama called Powder Park. I'm not sure if it actually originated from France, come to think of it. There is a distinctly American sheen to the programme, so maybe the very glossy, cleancut actors and actresses featured in this programme were actually American with their words being dubbed into French. Anyway, basically, Powder Park was set in a ski resort where the ultra glamorous heroes and heroines and all of their equally glamorous pals snowboarded and ski'd about to various locations whilst performing the business of enacting the dramas of their daily lives. Now the very odd thing about this programme was that in order to get absolutely anywhere in Powder Park you had to snowboard there (or ski) - but more snowboard, because it's cooller (sorry skiers, but it is). That meant that, of necessity, absolutely anywhere the actors/actresses wanted to go was downhill. For example, they'd snowboard down to the pub, have a few drinks, flirt/fall out with each other before snowboarding back down to home again - which clearly must have slid down the mountain in the time it took them to have the few drinks/flirt/fall out with each other in the pub, because they'd snowboarded down from home before... You get the picture. It was all very odd, but quite amusing too.
Anyway, if I could find a running route where I ran up the hill and then in a loop which would lead me in an uphill manner back up the hill to home again, I'd be very happy (and so would my general fitness and my knees). Sadly, I suspect that the laws of geography/science indicate that this might be an impossibility, but you never know. I was rubbish at geography and science as well at school, in addition to being rubbish at maths (and PE - I'm not painting a very good picture of myself here as a school pupil, am I?)
I haven't found one yet anyway. I went out today and went for a fairly level run, but even that included uphill sections and, of necessity, downhill ones too. (Absolutely everywhere you go in Sheffield entails going up a hill somewhere along the way. There are just too many hills). I wasn't going to go far today. I'm up to running around 5 miles distance now in each run and I'm quite happy with that for the moment. After all, my first run, the Great Winter Run is only 3 miles long, so I should be able to finish it comfortably now (I hope - all of this optimism might be ridiculously misplaced, and I might just be setting myself up to fail by even articulating it). After that, the next race isn't until May, so I've got time to build more distance into my training plan. Still, today, I ran six whole miles, which I was really pleased with, because it's around 10k, although it did take me a long time. Which leads me back to training smarter in order to save time. I think, on the whole, I'm just going to have to get a lot smarter at a lot of things (maths, geography, science, training sessions to name but a few) if I'm going to succeed.
Don't forget you can sponsor me now at: http://www.justgiving.com/valderbyshire I would be so grateful for your support for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Charity, in the meantime, I'm off to lie on the sofa with a gin and tonic because I'm a bit tired...
Anyway, this week, I've felt "a bit tired" myself. In the first instance, I've had a cold. It's not been a particularly bad one, but I've felt it because I haven't had one for a while, and it's the first one (probably of many) of the Winter months to come. As a result of this, I've felt a bit tired and a bit out of sorts and I really didn't want to go swimming one bit on Tuesday night. I mean, like, really didn't want to go. But then I thought, okay, I've got a cold. It's kind of a valid excuse, BUT if I start making excuses NOW, at this early stage in proceedings, I really have just had it. I know myself; I'll make excuse after excuse, week after week, and when the time actually comes around I will just drown in Windermere, because I won't be able to do the swim. So I went and did my swimming session. How is that for commitment? I stand in awe of myself. I actually went.
I did alright as well, if I do say so myself. I was slightly alarmed by how cold the water temperature felt in Pond's Forge. The display in the foyer clearly indicated that the International Pool was 27 degrees. When I got in, however, it felt really, really cold. Which does not bode well, when the organisers of the Great North Swim have indicated that the temperature in Windermere in September (the time of the swim) will be around 15 degrees. (I suppose it might encourage me to swim faster if it feels really, really, really cold). I couldn't swim much slower, that's for sure. Even though I'm swimming in the slow lane, I'm constantly being lapped by other (slow?) swimmers. Still, speed is not important in endurance events. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. (It might be important - It might, for instance, start to matter if I'm still swimming the mile and night starts to fall, or something along those lines, but I'm sure I will speed up. You have to remember, after all, I am very new at this).
I swam twenty lengths, which I worked out (and I never was that good at maths, so I might be wrong here), but I worked it out to be one kilometre (20 x 50m lengths = 1k). I only need to add another .6 of a kilometre to add to that and I've done it! I've done the mile! How's that for progress? I'm still swimming in a bit of a funny way, though, I must admit. I do still definitely need to look into that lesson. I also need to remember to take my wedding ring off before I get in the pool each week. I'm so terrified of losing it that I have ended up swimming with my hand all scrunched up, and this resulted in cramp in my hand last week, as well as being detrimental to my swimming style, which is poor anyway. Still, all these negative points aside, being as I was actually ill at the time, I was quite pleased with myself.
I also managed the running part of the training. Yes, I have fulfilled my quota of two runs per week, this week, despite the cold and feeling a bit tired. There is, I have noted, a serious problem with running in Sheffield. It's so hilly. You just end up running uphill for ages and then following this with long periods of (usually steep) downhill sections. On balance, I decided last week, whilst I was running down Carterknowle Road and my knees were killing me, that I prefer the uphill to the down. I know this sounds strange; and don't get me wrong, I find running uphill very, very hard. However, it's easier on the knees than the long sections of downhill routes. Also, running uphill, I can feel my body working; I'm out of breath, my heart's pumping faster, and, surely, this is all contributing to improvements in my overall fitness? However, on the downhill sections, I feel that I'm covering distance, but I'm barely out of breath and I don't think that it's really doing that much for me, from an improving fitness point of view. One of the very generous people who have sponsored me on my justgiving page this week pointed out that I need to train smarter to be able to gain the necessary fitness to complete the events I have promised I will. He told me that intelligent training will mean that this entire insane project will have less impact on family time, because I'll need to spend less time training, but I'll still be able to do the events, and comfortably. He's right. He's so right. And I don't think that wasting valuable time running down hills and potentially injuring my knees is tantamount to "training smarter". What I need is to find an uphill version of Powder Park.
Now, any of you who has ever visited France during the winter months may have come across a slightly (very) dodgy teen-drama called Powder Park. I'm not sure if it actually originated from France, come to think of it. There is a distinctly American sheen to the programme, so maybe the very glossy, cleancut actors and actresses featured in this programme were actually American with their words being dubbed into French. Anyway, basically, Powder Park was set in a ski resort where the ultra glamorous heroes and heroines and all of their equally glamorous pals snowboarded and ski'd about to various locations whilst performing the business of enacting the dramas of their daily lives. Now the very odd thing about this programme was that in order to get absolutely anywhere in Powder Park you had to snowboard there (or ski) - but more snowboard, because it's cooller (sorry skiers, but it is). That meant that, of necessity, absolutely anywhere the actors/actresses wanted to go was downhill. For example, they'd snowboard down to the pub, have a few drinks, flirt/fall out with each other before snowboarding back down to home again - which clearly must have slid down the mountain in the time it took them to have the few drinks/flirt/fall out with each other in the pub, because they'd snowboarded down from home before... You get the picture. It was all very odd, but quite amusing too.
Anyway, if I could find a running route where I ran up the hill and then in a loop which would lead me in an uphill manner back up the hill to home again, I'd be very happy (and so would my general fitness and my knees). Sadly, I suspect that the laws of geography/science indicate that this might be an impossibility, but you never know. I was rubbish at geography and science as well at school, in addition to being rubbish at maths (and PE - I'm not painting a very good picture of myself here as a school pupil, am I?)
I haven't found one yet anyway. I went out today and went for a fairly level run, but even that included uphill sections and, of necessity, downhill ones too. (Absolutely everywhere you go in Sheffield entails going up a hill somewhere along the way. There are just too many hills). I wasn't going to go far today. I'm up to running around 5 miles distance now in each run and I'm quite happy with that for the moment. After all, my first run, the Great Winter Run is only 3 miles long, so I should be able to finish it comfortably now (I hope - all of this optimism might be ridiculously misplaced, and I might just be setting myself up to fail by even articulating it). After that, the next race isn't until May, so I've got time to build more distance into my training plan. Still, today, I ran six whole miles, which I was really pleased with, because it's around 10k, although it did take me a long time. Which leads me back to training smarter in order to save time. I think, on the whole, I'm just going to have to get a lot smarter at a lot of things (maths, geography, science, training sessions to name but a few) if I'm going to succeed.
Don't forget you can sponsor me now at: http://www.justgiving.com/valderbyshire I would be so grateful for your support for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Charity, in the meantime, I'm off to lie on the sofa with a gin and tonic because I'm a bit tired...
Sunday, 14 September 2008
No big deal...
The training continues... It's the swimming which is the really hard work. Let's face it, you want to practice running, you can just step out of the door (as long as baby sitters are in place, etc) and go for a run. Swimming is an altogether different proposition. After last week's let down (the pool being too warm when it is normally freezing at Queen's Park), I decided to go to Pond's Forge in Sheffield city centre. Two reasons for this: (a) It's nearer; and (b) it's an Olympic sized swimming pool and so the lengths are fifty metres long instead of just twenty-five metres. (I know, I know, you end up swimming the same distance, but it doesn't feel quite so long somehow when you only have to do half the lengths...)
I have to say, apart from getting over Park Square roundabout (otherwise known as Kamikaze Roundabout... Well, to me, anyway) and finding somewhere to park in the city centre, the session went much better. I managed to swim sixteen 50m lengths and I did fifteen without stopping, which I was pretty proud of. It was actually quite hard, because there were several people lounging at either end of the pool, so to turn around without splashing them/sinking to the bottom of the pool was quite hard. I kind of floundered about a bit at each end until I'd managed to turn myself around. Also, even though I was swimming in what was clearly marked "Slow Lane" people were still overtaking me. Surely they should have been in the fast or medium lane? There's no need to swim in the slow lane just to make the real slow coaches (like me) look bad. Also, and this is the final negative point, I've realised that there's something a bit funny about the way I swim. I swim breast-stroke, and yes, it's slow, but it's all I can manage. Sadly, I don't even seem to be managing this properly. One leg seems to be doing the right thing, but my other (my left leg) does something a bit odd and twitches about a bit as I go. Sometimes I even completely misjudge the kick with my leg and splash it out of the water with a great crash of water (Usually going into the person behind me's face). I'm not going to be popular, plus I'm not going to be swimming very efficiently if I don't correct this. I may try and see if I can get a swimming lesson to try and correct my technique (possibly a private one, if I can manage it - I don't want to revisit my Brownie-gala-swimming-days-unfortunate-youth and get laughed out of the pool by a bunch of eight year olds again.) My husband says I need to correct this peculiar trait my left leg is showing in that it mutinies against what it is supposed to be doing. He says that if I don't, they'll all start calling me names at Pond's Forge now that I've started going regularly. He said they'd all be saying "Oh look, here comes Flipper again." Yes, thank you for that, thank you very much. Still, all in all, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself when I (with some difficulty in walking again) managed to get out of the pool, UNTIL I went into the changing rooms. Once there, I was cut down to size by three girls who were talking about their own planned endurance swim. Not one mile around Windermere. No; they intended to swim to Ireland. My one mile swim around Windermere, well, it's just nothing really... barely worth getting wet for.
And I have to say that I have found this a lot over the past week. That is, that what I'm intending to do over 2009 (i.e. run 64 miles and swim one) really isn't that big a deal to some people. Over the past week, I've been trying to drum up sponsorship for the events I'm going to take part in and over this time alone, I have encountered the following statements when I've told people about what I'm going to do:
"Run the Greats? Oh yes, I did Iron Man at the weekend..."
"Swim a mile? Oh OK I'll sponsor you, but my friend is training to swim the Channel..."
Well, what can you say to that? Apart from politely pointing out that there's a perfectly good ferry service, of course...
Anyway, I suppose it's true. To some people, running 64 miles and swimming one over open water (freezing open water) isn't that big a deal. However, I'm not some people. I'm me. Middle-aged, going grey, got two kids and the flab to prove it, never got picked for the teams in PE, (in fact, to be fair, spent quite a lot of time unaccountably absent from PE; absences which, I have to say, my PE teacher never reported me for, because I suspect she was as relieved as I was at my absence from these lessons), me. Everything about this is a total challenge to me. Finding the time for the training, staying motivated enough to do the training when the children wear me out sometimes. It's only going to get harder over the winter months and then later on it will be a wrench taking the time away from the children to travel all over the UK to take part in these events. Plus I've got to persuade my husband to do all that childcare for me, because I won't be there like I normally am. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm really enjoying it, in fact. But it is a challenge and a hard one for me.
One of the other challenges I've found is the time it takes to concentrate upon the fundraising. I'm making a real go of this. I'm really focussing on raising as much money as I can for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Campaign. When I first came to Sheffield, my very first (student) house was on Whitham Road, right opposite this hospital. For the entire year of my stay in this house my view consisted of the hospital and one of those thermometer things which they often have outside of churches/hospital to show how the fundraising is going. I can't remember the red bar indicating an increase in funds going up that much or even changing at all. I owe it to the students who are now living in this house to raise enough money to alter their view a little and add a little interest in their lives. (Of course, it could have just been that nobody ever altered the sign thingy - I know that the Weston Park does a lot to raise funds) but, of course, as with all hospitals, if they want to carry on providing the best possible care for their patients AND carry on with their local research which is used to help everyone globally in the fight against cancer, they need more, and as part of this, I've been contacting EVERYONE I can think of to sponsor me. It's been an amazing journey really. I've started by contacting everyone I was at school with. Now I went to a lot of schools when I was growing up, so there's a lot of people (my parents moved around a bit...) So far I've only got to the last secondary school I went to. (Sending begging emails takes quite a bit of time). I've used Facebook to find friends and Friends Reunited. It's been brilliant. I've spoken (virtually, over the email that is...) with a boy who now tells me (twenty years too late, mind) that he had a major crush on me at school. (I didn't think anyone had a major crush on me at school, I was a surly child). It did my self-esteem no end of good to hear that. Two people from school have sponsored me twenty pounds each. Incredible generosity from people I haven't seen in twenty years. I'm amazed at them, I really am.
As for Facebook, lots of people seem to have added me on as their "Friend" just because we went to school together, but actually I can't ever remember them speaking to me whilst I was at school with them. To them I have sent the following email: "Thanks for adding me on as your friend on Facebook. To be honest, I don't remember you ever speaking to me while we were at school together. Well, better late than never, I suppose..." and then I've gone on to ask them to sponsor me. I've not heard anything back yet from any of them, and I wonder if they perhaps didn't take it as the joke it was intended to be... Oh well. Let's hope some of them come through and sponsor me. Perhaps I need to refine my technique for asking. I am asking for money off them after all.
As for other friends, well, people have been amazing in expressing their support, although some people are still inclined to think I've gone slightly mad. The "it's all a mid-life crisis" theory seems to abound. Still, if some of these friends haven't got round to sponsoring me yet, lots have said that they will do some of the events with me. One friend (Lindsey) has taken up running (and she really doesn't like running), but she's going to do the Great North Run with me. She tells me that she went out for a training session the other day and whilst she was running along (painfully slowly) she was overtaken by a couple out walking their dog. A few moments later the dog passed her too, poking her up the bum with a large stick it was carrying in its mouth at the same time. It must have just caught her as it went past, but she took the hint anyway and tried to run a bit faster. Still, it's not put her off. Despite the fact that she's got two kids too and she's just started an incredibly complicated sounding science course at college, she's still taking time out to train. She's going to do the swim with me too, ostensibly, she says, to stop me from drowning, but I think she's a bit worried I might get lost too. My sense of direction is legendary... Well, rather, I should say, the lack of it... Also, she says with the left leg twitching thing going on, I might start swimming round in circles and I'll need her to keep me on course...
Another friend has also offered to join me for the swim. In fact, this friend and I have taken part in an endurance event together before. We both spent a rather unfortunate week in the Lake District with our kids on holiday last summer. All the kids did was whine. All the weather did was rain. You get the picture...
Also, another Lyndsay (the fundraiser from the Weston Park Hospital) has said that she will also take part in some of the runs. (Sorry about the number of Lyndsays in this story, by the way). It's an unfortunate fact that nearly all of the principal characters so far are called Lyndsay/Lindsey. Nothing wrong with that, it's a lovely name; but I suppose it might be a bit confusing for you following the story... Anyway, more characters will emerge soon (my sister for instance, who has incredibly generously sponsored me fifty pounds to complete these events AND definitely isn't called Lindsey).
Anyway, back to my legendary lack of sense of direction. This morning was my best run yet and would have been even better IF I hadn't got lost. I ran up through Ecclesall Woods, up through Whirlow, the Limb Valley to Ringinglow and then back down Long Line/Ecclesall Road/Abbey Lane to home again. It's a total of 5.5 miles according to Mapmyrun.com, but it was probably made even longer by the fact that the signage for the public footpath in the very boggy fields leading up to Ringinglow was very poor. I ended up wandering aimlessly around a field (complete with cows) for at least ten minutes looking for the stile to exit the field. I reckon that added at least another half a mile on. It probably also provided some amusement for the farmer (I could imagine him in his farmhouse - which was at the top of the field - saying: "there be another one of them runners lost in our field again. Give it ten minutes and I'll send the dog to get her out...") In the end, I failed to find the stile (possibly I was in the wrong field) and was forced to climb out of it over a stone wall and through some barbed wire. Just as I was dragging my mud spattered carcass over the wall, a man was cycling past on a bike. It earned me a very strange look, but I was very glad to be out of the field, I must say... Not least because it was so muddy and running on muddy/rough ground is, I found this morning, quite hard. Road running is much easier on the feet. Still, what running through all of these puddles/streams/boggy fields has thrown up is the fact that I definitely need new running shoes. Everytime I go out now, I get muddy toes and it's clear the old ones are leaking. I'm very attached to my running shoes, but it's definitely time to get some more.
Anyway, I've gone on and on again, so I'd better get back to the real business of the day... Pestering for sponsorship. Back to the Friends Reunited page I think... Then onto University alumni... Don't forget, you can sponsor me NOW to complete these events at http://www.justgiving.com/valderbyshire There is a very good chance I will drown in open water on Windermere and you won't have to pay up anyway, so what have you got to lose?
I have to say, apart from getting over Park Square roundabout (otherwise known as Kamikaze Roundabout... Well, to me, anyway) and finding somewhere to park in the city centre, the session went much better. I managed to swim sixteen 50m lengths and I did fifteen without stopping, which I was pretty proud of. It was actually quite hard, because there were several people lounging at either end of the pool, so to turn around without splashing them/sinking to the bottom of the pool was quite hard. I kind of floundered about a bit at each end until I'd managed to turn myself around. Also, even though I was swimming in what was clearly marked "Slow Lane" people were still overtaking me. Surely they should have been in the fast or medium lane? There's no need to swim in the slow lane just to make the real slow coaches (like me) look bad. Also, and this is the final negative point, I've realised that there's something a bit funny about the way I swim. I swim breast-stroke, and yes, it's slow, but it's all I can manage. Sadly, I don't even seem to be managing this properly. One leg seems to be doing the right thing, but my other (my left leg) does something a bit odd and twitches about a bit as I go. Sometimes I even completely misjudge the kick with my leg and splash it out of the water with a great crash of water (Usually going into the person behind me's face). I'm not going to be popular, plus I'm not going to be swimming very efficiently if I don't correct this. I may try and see if I can get a swimming lesson to try and correct my technique (possibly a private one, if I can manage it - I don't want to revisit my Brownie-gala-swimming-days-unfortunate-youth and get laughed out of the pool by a bunch of eight year olds again.) My husband says I need to correct this peculiar trait my left leg is showing in that it mutinies against what it is supposed to be doing. He says that if I don't, they'll all start calling me names at Pond's Forge now that I've started going regularly. He said they'd all be saying "Oh look, here comes Flipper again." Yes, thank you for that, thank you very much. Still, all in all, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself when I (with some difficulty in walking again) managed to get out of the pool, UNTIL I went into the changing rooms. Once there, I was cut down to size by three girls who were talking about their own planned endurance swim. Not one mile around Windermere. No; they intended to swim to Ireland. My one mile swim around Windermere, well, it's just nothing really... barely worth getting wet for.
And I have to say that I have found this a lot over the past week. That is, that what I'm intending to do over 2009 (i.e. run 64 miles and swim one) really isn't that big a deal to some people. Over the past week, I've been trying to drum up sponsorship for the events I'm going to take part in and over this time alone, I have encountered the following statements when I've told people about what I'm going to do:
"Run the Greats? Oh yes, I did Iron Man at the weekend..."
"Swim a mile? Oh OK I'll sponsor you, but my friend is training to swim the Channel..."
Well, what can you say to that? Apart from politely pointing out that there's a perfectly good ferry service, of course...
Anyway, I suppose it's true. To some people, running 64 miles and swimming one over open water (freezing open water) isn't that big a deal. However, I'm not some people. I'm me. Middle-aged, going grey, got two kids and the flab to prove it, never got picked for the teams in PE, (in fact, to be fair, spent quite a lot of time unaccountably absent from PE; absences which, I have to say, my PE teacher never reported me for, because I suspect she was as relieved as I was at my absence from these lessons), me. Everything about this is a total challenge to me. Finding the time for the training, staying motivated enough to do the training when the children wear me out sometimes. It's only going to get harder over the winter months and then later on it will be a wrench taking the time away from the children to travel all over the UK to take part in these events. Plus I've got to persuade my husband to do all that childcare for me, because I won't be there like I normally am. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm really enjoying it, in fact. But it is a challenge and a hard one for me.
One of the other challenges I've found is the time it takes to concentrate upon the fundraising. I'm making a real go of this. I'm really focussing on raising as much money as I can for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Campaign. When I first came to Sheffield, my very first (student) house was on Whitham Road, right opposite this hospital. For the entire year of my stay in this house my view consisted of the hospital and one of those thermometer things which they often have outside of churches/hospital to show how the fundraising is going. I can't remember the red bar indicating an increase in funds going up that much or even changing at all. I owe it to the students who are now living in this house to raise enough money to alter their view a little and add a little interest in their lives. (Of course, it could have just been that nobody ever altered the sign thingy - I know that the Weston Park does a lot to raise funds) but, of course, as with all hospitals, if they want to carry on providing the best possible care for their patients AND carry on with their local research which is used to help everyone globally in the fight against cancer, they need more, and as part of this, I've been contacting EVERYONE I can think of to sponsor me. It's been an amazing journey really. I've started by contacting everyone I was at school with. Now I went to a lot of schools when I was growing up, so there's a lot of people (my parents moved around a bit...) So far I've only got to the last secondary school I went to. (Sending begging emails takes quite a bit of time). I've used Facebook to find friends and Friends Reunited. It's been brilliant. I've spoken (virtually, over the email that is...) with a boy who now tells me (twenty years too late, mind) that he had a major crush on me at school. (I didn't think anyone had a major crush on me at school, I was a surly child). It did my self-esteem no end of good to hear that. Two people from school have sponsored me twenty pounds each. Incredible generosity from people I haven't seen in twenty years. I'm amazed at them, I really am.
As for Facebook, lots of people seem to have added me on as their "Friend" just because we went to school together, but actually I can't ever remember them speaking to me whilst I was at school with them. To them I have sent the following email: "Thanks for adding me on as your friend on Facebook. To be honest, I don't remember you ever speaking to me while we were at school together. Well, better late than never, I suppose..." and then I've gone on to ask them to sponsor me. I've not heard anything back yet from any of them, and I wonder if they perhaps didn't take it as the joke it was intended to be... Oh well. Let's hope some of them come through and sponsor me. Perhaps I need to refine my technique for asking. I am asking for money off them after all.
As for other friends, well, people have been amazing in expressing their support, although some people are still inclined to think I've gone slightly mad. The "it's all a mid-life crisis" theory seems to abound. Still, if some of these friends haven't got round to sponsoring me yet, lots have said that they will do some of the events with me. One friend (Lindsey) has taken up running (and she really doesn't like running), but she's going to do the Great North Run with me. She tells me that she went out for a training session the other day and whilst she was running along (painfully slowly) she was overtaken by a couple out walking their dog. A few moments later the dog passed her too, poking her up the bum with a large stick it was carrying in its mouth at the same time. It must have just caught her as it went past, but she took the hint anyway and tried to run a bit faster. Still, it's not put her off. Despite the fact that she's got two kids too and she's just started an incredibly complicated sounding science course at college, she's still taking time out to train. She's going to do the swim with me too, ostensibly, she says, to stop me from drowning, but I think she's a bit worried I might get lost too. My sense of direction is legendary... Well, rather, I should say, the lack of it... Also, she says with the left leg twitching thing going on, I might start swimming round in circles and I'll need her to keep me on course...
Another friend has also offered to join me for the swim. In fact, this friend and I have taken part in an endurance event together before. We both spent a rather unfortunate week in the Lake District with our kids on holiday last summer. All the kids did was whine. All the weather did was rain. You get the picture...
Also, another Lyndsay (the fundraiser from the Weston Park Hospital) has said that she will also take part in some of the runs. (Sorry about the number of Lyndsays in this story, by the way). It's an unfortunate fact that nearly all of the principal characters so far are called Lyndsay/Lindsey. Nothing wrong with that, it's a lovely name; but I suppose it might be a bit confusing for you following the story... Anyway, more characters will emerge soon (my sister for instance, who has incredibly generously sponsored me fifty pounds to complete these events AND definitely isn't called Lindsey).
Anyway, back to my legendary lack of sense of direction. This morning was my best run yet and would have been even better IF I hadn't got lost. I ran up through Ecclesall Woods, up through Whirlow, the Limb Valley to Ringinglow and then back down Long Line/Ecclesall Road/Abbey Lane to home again. It's a total of 5.5 miles according to Mapmyrun.com, but it was probably made even longer by the fact that the signage for the public footpath in the very boggy fields leading up to Ringinglow was very poor. I ended up wandering aimlessly around a field (complete with cows) for at least ten minutes looking for the stile to exit the field. I reckon that added at least another half a mile on. It probably also provided some amusement for the farmer (I could imagine him in his farmhouse - which was at the top of the field - saying: "there be another one of them runners lost in our field again. Give it ten minutes and I'll send the dog to get her out...") In the end, I failed to find the stile (possibly I was in the wrong field) and was forced to climb out of it over a stone wall and through some barbed wire. Just as I was dragging my mud spattered carcass over the wall, a man was cycling past on a bike. It earned me a very strange look, but I was very glad to be out of the field, I must say... Not least because it was so muddy and running on muddy/rough ground is, I found this morning, quite hard. Road running is much easier on the feet. Still, what running through all of these puddles/streams/boggy fields has thrown up is the fact that I definitely need new running shoes. Everytime I go out now, I get muddy toes and it's clear the old ones are leaking. I'm very attached to my running shoes, but it's definitely time to get some more.
Anyway, I've gone on and on again, so I'd better get back to the real business of the day... Pestering for sponsorship. Back to the Friends Reunited page I think... Then onto University alumni... Don't forget, you can sponsor me NOW to complete these events at http://www.justgiving.com/valderbyshire There is a very good chance I will drown in open water on Windermere and you won't have to pay up anyway, so what have you got to lose?
Sunday, 7 September 2008
One week since I passed the point of no return...
It's one week since I passed the point of no return... (the point of no return being the point just after I'd clicked the "send" button on the email to the Weston Park Hospital promising to run nine of the "Great" series of runs and swim one mile over open water (Lake Windermere to be precise) to complete the Great North Swim event, in order to raise some money for their cancer appeal. To clarify, here is the precise nature of what I've promised to do:
The Great Winter Run (5K/3.11 miles) to be held in Edinburgh on 10th January 2009. (Never been to Edinburgh - this is going to be fun).
The Great Edinburgh Run (10K/6.22 miles) to be held in Edinburgh again (going to be visiting there a lot it seems) on 3rd May 2009.
The Great Manchester Run (10K/6.22 miles) to be held during May 2009.
The Great Women's Run (10K/6.22 miles) - I'm not even that sure where this one is going to be held, but it's during June.
The Great Capital Run (10K/6.22 miles) - err.... London? July 2009.
The Great Wales Run (10K/6.22 miles) - It was in Cardiff last year, so I guess it'll be there again. To be held during July 2009.
The Great Yorkshire Run (10K/6.22 miles) - in my home town of glorious Sheffield, September 2009.
The Great North Run (the big one - a half-marathon at 13.1 miles) - Newcastle during October 2009.
The Great South Run (the last one - ten miles) - Portsmouth, during October 2009.
And then there's the Great North Swim - taking place during September, it's one mile over open water across Lake Windermere.
It's difficult to say exactly why I've promised to run just under 64 miles and swim one. I'm not exactly the sporty type. I'm 36 years' old and I've got two kids. If anything, I'm a bit on the flabby side (don't knock it - this could be a serious advantage during the open water event). I wasn't even that sporty before the advent of the two kids and the flab. I was always the last to be picked for the teams in PE. My husband says that I'm having a mid-life crisis (yes, thank you for that - thank you very much). Maybe I just want to do something away from the kids... Something different other than the school run, the hoovering, the wiping noses and bums. Maybe I just want to take a break from all that and do something different. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I'd seen a girl collecting for the Men's Cancer Campaign for the Weston Park Hospital in Sheffield City Centre and the sight of her made me think about how I never knew my own paternal grandfather because he died of lung cancer when my father was just 18, and how my own kids would never know their paternal grandfather because he died of prostate cancer when my husband was just 21. I don't know but the sight of her made me think that maybe just sticking a quid in her tin and walking away wasn't doing enough. That really, I wanted to do more. And then I had this idea... I'm not saying it was a good idea, but I've always wanted to run the Great North Run and I thought this would give me the ideal opportunity to do it. And then I thought, oh well, if I'm running that one, I might as well run all the other "Great" runs too. (Except when I went onto the greatrun.org website, I noticed they do a Great Australia Run, a Great Ethiopia Run and a Great Ireland Run too. I'm not doing these for three reasons:
a) I can't take that much time away from my children.
b) I can't afford the travel expenses.
c) My passport has expired).
Then, just as I was completing my online entry for the Great Edinburgh Run, I noticed a box asking if I'd be interested in completing the Great Swim event too, and before I'd known it, I'd clicked "yes" and "send". (Now, I really don't know what I was thinking of here. I can't swim very well in a pool, much less over open water. Also, I swim like an old lady - very slowly, refusing to get my face wet. I've always swum this way. I have a distinct memory of entering a Brownie Swimming Gala once as a child and knowing for the briefest instant what it was to be winning and have no-one in front of me, because all of the other brownies had finished their race and got out of the pool). But, hey, I thought, I can practice. A whole year to practice for that one. And, anyway, I'm sure they would come and fish you out if it looked like you were in trouble. It would be bad press if anyone actually drowned during the event. Anyway, whatever I was thinking, as I was saying, I have now promised to do these events and so I've got to do them.
My first training session, to be fair, didn't go great. The problem with running anywhere in Sheffield is that wherever you go, you end up running up a big hill. I ran up Abbey Lane, through Ecclesall Woods to Ecclesall Road. That's one big hill. It took me a long time and my legs were burning by the time I made it up there. I didn't even run all the way. I had to stop and walk some of the way. Even when I'd made it up to Ecclesall Road, my pride took a further blow when I was overtaken by a pensioner jogging past (albeit a very sprightly looking one). I tried to console myself that I'm training for endurance events and am thus entitled to go slowly. Plus, I did, after all, feel like I was having a heart attack at the time, which was slowing me down somewhat. I could have sworn the pensioner was laughing at me too (I mean, who has the energy to jog and laugh at the same time - there's something not natural there).
A couple of days later (legs still aching), I take my children to the park and bump into a friend I haven't seen for a while, out with her daughters and her friend. Her friend (something of an expert on swimming it seems) advises me that I'll get too hot swimming in a wet suit in Windermere. I don't know about this, I'll have to find out - but I do think that perhaps the friend swims a bit faster than me. After all, she told me she could swim a mile in just under an hour. At this present moment in time, I have every confidence I can swim a mile in just under a day. Plus, I'm no expert on open water swimming (at all), but I did go and have a paddle in Coniston Water during a hot August day once and it was so cold that I couldn't feel my toes for the rest of the day. And I do have a sneaking suspicion that Lake Windermere during September is going to be Baltic.
However, knocks to confidence aside, my second run does go better. I run just under three and a half miles and I don't feel too bad at all. (I've cunningly chosen a flat run this time). I was feeling really positive about the experience until I ran past the display window of Staybrite Windows on Abbeydale Road and noticed in that highly polished surface that there was an old woman wearing exactly the same clothes as me, also out for a run. It took me a couple of moments to realise that that bent-backed old woman hobbling along at a pace barely faster than a slow walk was me.
My first swim training session isn't exactly confidence inspiring either. I have not been swimming since before my first son was born (who, coincidentally, started primary school this week). I went to Queen's Park in Chesterfield because the water is always freezing there. Sadly, this time when I go, they've turned the heating up and it's actually quite temperate. I swim eighteen lengths of the 25m pool (Nowhere near the 64 lengths I'll need to be able to swim to have completed the equivalent of a mile). Also, I have to say, during that final length when I realise I am incapable of swimming even one more metre, I am on the point of drowning. I keep going under the water, I'm so exhausted. When I get out of the pool, I can barely make my legs work, the muscles feel so tight. Flopping about like some great ungainly seal (without the swimming ability, obviously) I somehow manage to stagger off to the shower. It's at this point that I ponder the fact that (a) I'm nowhere near making the distance; and (b) crucially, I'm nowhere near swimming the distance without stopping to grab onto the bar at the side of the pool and gasp for breath. There isn't going to be any comforting bar at the side of Windermere, and I'm going to have to be able to do it without stopping. I'm very grateful I have a whole year to train for this.
During this first week, it's my wedding anniversary. Coincidentally, we got married in a hotel next to Lake Windermere. The highlight of the wedding, according to our twelve guests (except my mother who was worried about her hair style being ruined by the breeze) was a champagne boat ride around Windermere. I wonder if this is a providential sign at all. Or maybe it's just a comment on the circularity of life. I got married there and I'm probably going to die there next year too, if my inaugural swim was anything to go by. It's our fifth wedding anniversary ("wood" - oh, and yes, the mathematically minded amongst you will now be saying, hang on, hasn't she got a son who's just started school and therefore must be around five years' of age? OK, so there were thirteen guests at the wedding). I buy my husband an apple tree for his allotment and then due to a severe shortage of places to hide an apple tree in in our house, I give him his present a day early. He buys me a book "The Complete Guide to Endurance Training". Must read it.
On the Saturday of this week, I go to work. (I work for a bookmaker taking bets over the telephone). It's not the job I thought I'd have, but it fits with the children. During my lunch hour I pop out to look for a suitable T-shirt which I can have printed up with the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal Logo and have all the dates of my runs/swim printed on the back. I look in all the usual places. All the best sports shops. I even look in just general women's wear shops. Everything's too expensive and somehow not quite right anyway. Everything's got huge logos on it and brand names on it. In the end, I find just what I'm looking for in the British Heart Foundation Shop. A second hand plain red t-shirt which I intend to have printed up and a blue one for training in. They're great, they cost me three hundred and seventy five English pennies for the pair and the British Heart Foundation benefitted too. Everyone's a winner.
The Great Winter Run (5K/3.11 miles) to be held in Edinburgh on 10th January 2009. (Never been to Edinburgh - this is going to be fun).
The Great Edinburgh Run (10K/6.22 miles) to be held in Edinburgh again (going to be visiting there a lot it seems) on 3rd May 2009.
The Great Manchester Run (10K/6.22 miles) to be held during May 2009.
The Great Women's Run (10K/6.22 miles) - I'm not even that sure where this one is going to be held, but it's during June.
The Great Capital Run (10K/6.22 miles) - err.... London? July 2009.
The Great Wales Run (10K/6.22 miles) - It was in Cardiff last year, so I guess it'll be there again. To be held during July 2009.
The Great Yorkshire Run (10K/6.22 miles) - in my home town of glorious Sheffield, September 2009.
The Great North Run (the big one - a half-marathon at 13.1 miles) - Newcastle during October 2009.
The Great South Run (the last one - ten miles) - Portsmouth, during October 2009.
And then there's the Great North Swim - taking place during September, it's one mile over open water across Lake Windermere.
It's difficult to say exactly why I've promised to run just under 64 miles and swim one. I'm not exactly the sporty type. I'm 36 years' old and I've got two kids. If anything, I'm a bit on the flabby side (don't knock it - this could be a serious advantage during the open water event). I wasn't even that sporty before the advent of the two kids and the flab. I was always the last to be picked for the teams in PE. My husband says that I'm having a mid-life crisis (yes, thank you for that - thank you very much). Maybe I just want to do something away from the kids... Something different other than the school run, the hoovering, the wiping noses and bums. Maybe I just want to take a break from all that and do something different. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I'd seen a girl collecting for the Men's Cancer Campaign for the Weston Park Hospital in Sheffield City Centre and the sight of her made me think about how I never knew my own paternal grandfather because he died of lung cancer when my father was just 18, and how my own kids would never know their paternal grandfather because he died of prostate cancer when my husband was just 21. I don't know but the sight of her made me think that maybe just sticking a quid in her tin and walking away wasn't doing enough. That really, I wanted to do more. And then I had this idea... I'm not saying it was a good idea, but I've always wanted to run the Great North Run and I thought this would give me the ideal opportunity to do it. And then I thought, oh well, if I'm running that one, I might as well run all the other "Great" runs too. (Except when I went onto the greatrun.org website, I noticed they do a Great Australia Run, a Great Ethiopia Run and a Great Ireland Run too. I'm not doing these for three reasons:
a) I can't take that much time away from my children.
b) I can't afford the travel expenses.
c) My passport has expired).
Then, just as I was completing my online entry for the Great Edinburgh Run, I noticed a box asking if I'd be interested in completing the Great Swim event too, and before I'd known it, I'd clicked "yes" and "send". (Now, I really don't know what I was thinking of here. I can't swim very well in a pool, much less over open water. Also, I swim like an old lady - very slowly, refusing to get my face wet. I've always swum this way. I have a distinct memory of entering a Brownie Swimming Gala once as a child and knowing for the briefest instant what it was to be winning and have no-one in front of me, because all of the other brownies had finished their race and got out of the pool). But, hey, I thought, I can practice. A whole year to practice for that one. And, anyway, I'm sure they would come and fish you out if it looked like you were in trouble. It would be bad press if anyone actually drowned during the event. Anyway, whatever I was thinking, as I was saying, I have now promised to do these events and so I've got to do them.
My first training session, to be fair, didn't go great. The problem with running anywhere in Sheffield is that wherever you go, you end up running up a big hill. I ran up Abbey Lane, through Ecclesall Woods to Ecclesall Road. That's one big hill. It took me a long time and my legs were burning by the time I made it up there. I didn't even run all the way. I had to stop and walk some of the way. Even when I'd made it up to Ecclesall Road, my pride took a further blow when I was overtaken by a pensioner jogging past (albeit a very sprightly looking one). I tried to console myself that I'm training for endurance events and am thus entitled to go slowly. Plus, I did, after all, feel like I was having a heart attack at the time, which was slowing me down somewhat. I could have sworn the pensioner was laughing at me too (I mean, who has the energy to jog and laugh at the same time - there's something not natural there).
A couple of days later (legs still aching), I take my children to the park and bump into a friend I haven't seen for a while, out with her daughters and her friend. Her friend (something of an expert on swimming it seems) advises me that I'll get too hot swimming in a wet suit in Windermere. I don't know about this, I'll have to find out - but I do think that perhaps the friend swims a bit faster than me. After all, she told me she could swim a mile in just under an hour. At this present moment in time, I have every confidence I can swim a mile in just under a day. Plus, I'm no expert on open water swimming (at all), but I did go and have a paddle in Coniston Water during a hot August day once and it was so cold that I couldn't feel my toes for the rest of the day. And I do have a sneaking suspicion that Lake Windermere during September is going to be Baltic.
However, knocks to confidence aside, my second run does go better. I run just under three and a half miles and I don't feel too bad at all. (I've cunningly chosen a flat run this time). I was feeling really positive about the experience until I ran past the display window of Staybrite Windows on Abbeydale Road and noticed in that highly polished surface that there was an old woman wearing exactly the same clothes as me, also out for a run. It took me a couple of moments to realise that that bent-backed old woman hobbling along at a pace barely faster than a slow walk was me.
My first swim training session isn't exactly confidence inspiring either. I have not been swimming since before my first son was born (who, coincidentally, started primary school this week). I went to Queen's Park in Chesterfield because the water is always freezing there. Sadly, this time when I go, they've turned the heating up and it's actually quite temperate. I swim eighteen lengths of the 25m pool (Nowhere near the 64 lengths I'll need to be able to swim to have completed the equivalent of a mile). Also, I have to say, during that final length when I realise I am incapable of swimming even one more metre, I am on the point of drowning. I keep going under the water, I'm so exhausted. When I get out of the pool, I can barely make my legs work, the muscles feel so tight. Flopping about like some great ungainly seal (without the swimming ability, obviously) I somehow manage to stagger off to the shower. It's at this point that I ponder the fact that (a) I'm nowhere near making the distance; and (b) crucially, I'm nowhere near swimming the distance without stopping to grab onto the bar at the side of the pool and gasp for breath. There isn't going to be any comforting bar at the side of Windermere, and I'm going to have to be able to do it without stopping. I'm very grateful I have a whole year to train for this.
During this first week, it's my wedding anniversary. Coincidentally, we got married in a hotel next to Lake Windermere. The highlight of the wedding, according to our twelve guests (except my mother who was worried about her hair style being ruined by the breeze) was a champagne boat ride around Windermere. I wonder if this is a providential sign at all. Or maybe it's just a comment on the circularity of life. I got married there and I'm probably going to die there next year too, if my inaugural swim was anything to go by. It's our fifth wedding anniversary ("wood" - oh, and yes, the mathematically minded amongst you will now be saying, hang on, hasn't she got a son who's just started school and therefore must be around five years' of age? OK, so there were thirteen guests at the wedding). I buy my husband an apple tree for his allotment and then due to a severe shortage of places to hide an apple tree in in our house, I give him his present a day early. He buys me a book "The Complete Guide to Endurance Training". Must read it.
On the Saturday of this week, I go to work. (I work for a bookmaker taking bets over the telephone). It's not the job I thought I'd have, but it fits with the children. During my lunch hour I pop out to look for a suitable T-shirt which I can have printed up with the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Appeal Logo and have all the dates of my runs/swim printed on the back. I look in all the usual places. All the best sports shops. I even look in just general women's wear shops. Everything's too expensive and somehow not quite right anyway. Everything's got huge logos on it and brand names on it. In the end, I find just what I'm looking for in the British Heart Foundation Shop. A second hand plain red t-shirt which I intend to have printed up and a blue one for training in. They're great, they cost me three hundred and seventy five English pennies for the pair and the British Heart Foundation benefitted too. Everyone's a winner.
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