Well that’s it. The training is over and I’ve another half marathon under the belt. And as always, it was an emotional and wonderful experience.
Well that’s it. The training is over and I’ve another half marathon under the belt. And as always, it was an emotional and wonderful experience.
I said last week that I was running for a better world. I often feel when I participate in a road race that I am being given a glimpse of how what that world could look like. Yesterday’s event (Sunday 12th October)was no exception. From the elite runners at the beginning to those of us bring up the rear it felt like there was a place for all of us. We all belonged, we were all important. There were runners of all shapes and sizes, old and young, disabled, non disabled, black and white. Everyone was friendly, everyone felt welcome, and when we finally set off, twenty minutes late, the support from local people was tremendous.
Of course, I had my personal champions littered around the course, Chris and the kids at miles two and 10, friends at nine and unexpectedly at 12, all gave me a welcome boost. But the cheers of strangers were incredibly encouraging at mile four when I lost pace and nine miles felt a long way to go. The enthusiastic children between 11 and 12, who high fived me and shouted “awesome” and “fantastic” to everyone going past, lifted my flagging spirits. And the stream of cars full of runners who’d finished, beeping and calling “You’re nearly there” were a real tonic as I approached the end. If the world was always like this, inclusive, caring, supportive, it would be an amazing place to live.
I had hoped, as I always do, that maybe this year, I might make a personal best. But that was probably a big ask, given how little I had run earlier in the year, and how late I started training. Having started off too fast, I seemed to reach Chris and the kids in no time, and was feeling great as I flew past them. But, remembering how I overdid it at the beginning last year, I decided to slow down at mile three which may have been a bit of a mistake. I found miles the next two miles hard-going, my legs hurt, my brain wandered, I began to doubt I could make it to the end. Which was why the shouts from the crowd were so helpful. I found my running mantra of Peace, Hope, Love, Joy, also helped me focus, but by five miles realised I’d slowed down way too much. So I forced myself to speed up again.
From that point onwards, I felt much better. I pushed at a steady unspectacular 12 minute mile to the end, and although I was making more of an effort, curiously it didn’t hurt half as much. There’s a lesson in there somewhere. The remaining eight miles were, in the main, an absolute joy. Running round the hallowed turf of the Iffley Road Track where Roger Bannister completed the first four minute miles 60 years ago, was a fantastic experience. I may have been nearly three times as slow, but it was marvellous to run in his footsteps.
The sun came out around Christ Church Meadows, showing off the beauty of the river, and the trees just turning into autumnal reds and yellows. I wasn’t even disheartened to see the stream of runners heading back down to the Stadium, along the river opposite, I was just excited I’d soon be running that way myself. The river section is one of my favourite places to run, and it was nice to have it exclusively for runners, instead of having to jostle cyclists and pedestrians. It was lovely to see my friends at the Isis pub and run on to a great rhythm from the band playing there.
Getting to mile ten felt a bit of a stretch, but I knew my husband Chris and our son Jonathan would be at the next roundabout, though they only just made it. I was approaching the slope down to the underpass when I heard a shout “Mum”, and there they were rushing down the slope opposite. There was enough time to pose with my message (“run_ekklesia. For a fairer world”) and head under the pass for the last two miles. I always find I am running out of steam at this point, but for once, I had energy, and though mile eleven felt a long time coming, I was feeling cheerful as I approached the twelfth. A feeling increased by the sight of my super running friend Julian on his way home after taking third place. (I later discovered in an awesome 1 hr 13 minutes. Elite runners – super humans!).
I did need my mantra for the last mile and I found adding the word “Run” into the mix helped push my pace, and so I felt great as I came into the stadium. A glance at the clock showed I was two minutes off last year’s personal best, but I didn’t care. In June I was dithering about whether to take part, and in July, I thought I might have left it too late. In September, I worried about whether my knees would be able to stand it. In the end, I’d done just enough training and I’d taken care of my creaking body so my knees held up. Which meant crossing the finish line was the best feeling ever.
Later that afternoon, Jonathan and I were the only ones at home, so at his request we sat down and watched ‘The Lorax’ together. Taken from the wonderful Dr Seuss story it tells of a town overwhelmed by consumption, that has replaced trees and nature with plastic and waste, where even the air is for sale. Although it was a bit heavy in its ‘Save the Planet’ message (the book is far more subtle and fun), the original lines from Dr Seuss really are words to live by. “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”
One glance at the blogs, news, comments on this website is enough to show you that the world we live in is in a sorry state. But the message of ‘The Lorax’ is that it doesn’t have to be that way. Here at Ekklesia, we’re working to build that fairer world. Can you help us?
* I ran the Oxford Half Marathon on Sunday 12th October, to raise funds for Ekklesia’s work. If you would like to support the work of Ekklesia, please do make a donation through Paypal
* Alternatively please send a donation to the Ekklesia office, Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church, 235 Shaftesbury Avenue, London, WC2H 8EP making it clear that your donation is in support of my run. You can follow my progress on @run_ekklesia and see previous blogs here: http://www.ekklesia.co.uk/blogs/virginiamoffat
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© Virginia Moffatt is chief operating officer of Ekklesia.