Lands End to John O'Groats, Day 19 - A Big Fat Black One.

Day 19 Morning

After 61 miles you would have thought I would sleep like a baby. I very nearly did sleep like an actual baby, waking up every few hours balling my eyes out! I didn't cry but bloody hell my ribs were letting me know that 61 miles wasn't their favourite thing to do. My legs were protesting too. I still have almost normal feeling and some use of my legs which puts me at a disadvantage in wheelchair athletics. My legs weigh more than other athlete's legs and they hurt after a while in the chair - they are tucked up in an aerodynamic position, not a position designed for comfort.
After the alarms went off and everyone got their morning jobs done Ed and I sat down with the maps, we knew with a 61 mile push on day 18 I had a chance of finishing on day 20. The problem was throughout the challenge each time I had pushed a tough or a long push I had then struggled the next day to get much further than my 33 mile target. I was still 90 miles from John O'Groats. We'd been tipped off by a few different people that there were two very steep hills climbing out of gorges at Berriedale and Helmsdale which were around 40 miles from John O'Groats. We both felt like I would need to get them out of the way on Day 19 because starting on two very steep hills on day 20 would make it very tough for me to finish that day.
Getting these two climbs completed would need me to push past the 50 mile marker on Day 19, a tough ask after completing 61 miles the day before. I knew those final climbs were going to be tough after 50 miles of pushing.
I did have a carrot dangled in front of me to get off to a good start, I'd been offered a free lunch at the Royal Marine Hotel in Brora.... 30 miles away from my start point! The carrot of free food couldn't have come at a better time. I set off with the firm target of getting to Brora for lunch.

A traditional before picture

Ready to go!

The first 5 miles of the day's push were undulating but nothing to worry about, I made pretty good progress. I even delt with the first hill at 5 miles pretty well, much better than I had coped the morning after a big day so far in the challenge. Towards the top of the Hill we passed a village called Tain, I asked dad to drive through to see if there was a vets that could remove Bonnie's tick. Ant, Ed and I stayed on the A9 and dropped down the steep hill towards Dornoch Firth Bridge, again I dropped the lads on the downhill. On the way over the Bridge I just couldn't believe the beauty of the place. It's so stunning it has its own facebook fan page! Unfortunately I didn't have anybody with me to get any photos of me crossing the bridge. We'd been passing signposts for Bonar Bridge, Ed seemed very interested in the place - I did wonder if he'd took Ant on a detour just to get a comedy photo for facebook. As with the journey the whole way I didn't want to set up a photo of me on the bridge, all the action shots were as it happened so I just kept pushing.

Dornoch Firth

Stunning!

There were a big group of cyclists on a layby on the bridge getting ready to set off and I got a big cheer as I passed by. There was a big old climb as I came off the bridge and headed for loch fleet. On this stretch of the journey I somehow found myself in the centre of a vintage tractor rally! There were lots of photographers out and every now and then a 50 year old plus tractor came trundling past. Pretty odd, but I guess they thought the same about me!

Holding up some traffic on the way to Brora

After 20 miles we pulled over for a brew in a Layby. The group of cyclists I passed earlier pulled in just a few moments later. They were also on a Lands End John O'Groats record bid. One of their group was in his 70's and aiming for and age group record. They said they had followed my progress all the way from Bristol and had hoped to pass me somewhere. That's why I had got such a big cheer from them on the bridge. It was nice to know people involved in a completely different sport to me were following what I was doing and were impressed by it. We wished each other luck and they got on their way.
 I was starting to feel the previous days Mileage when I got back on the coast road at Golspie there were two short but nasty hills between there and Brora but the call of a free pint and free food kept me going. In true Lancashire style I love 'owt fer nowt'! We made our way to the Royal Marine Hotel, I think we all felt a bit out of place in a swanky hotel in our sweaty kit! It took us a while to find our way through the hotel to the restaurant but once there the manager came across and offered us anything from the menu. I fancied a pint, steak and followed it with apple crumble and custard - the best custard I have ever tasted. I was made up with my free lunch!

A tad under dressed lads?

Being a fool in the hotel.

Day 19 Morning Stats

Miles: 28.90
Time: 2:44:05
Average Moving Speed: 10.6mph
Top Speed: 31.4mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 24 - 10:31
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 18 - 2:37
Total Ascent: 1167ft
Average Heart Rate: 137bpm
Max Heart Rate: 157bpm

Day 19 Morning Progress Maps

Day 19 Afternoon

 After lunch we posed for photos with the manager and then got on our way again.

The top custard man in the UK.

At the first hill just after 3 miles I was already struggling, I'd eaten too much and had a cheeky pint, my stomach wasn't best pleased with me. From mile 3 to 11 I managed to keep it ticking over, I didn't feel great though and just as we got to Helmsdale we had rain so it was time for a brew.

Some flat!

Helmsdale.

I was hoping that the rain would blow over but it didn't so after half an hour or so I had to get back out in the rain before I started to cease up. In the first few hundred metres the main rubber pad on my gloves came off. I tried a set of soft gloves instead but my hands were too battered to put any useful effort through them in soft gloves so another few hundred meters down the road I had to put my damaged hard gloves back on and Ed Gaffer taped them together. Yet another few hundred meters down the road we had to stop again, the tape was too tight so we needed to loosen them.
The 5km climbing out of Helmsdale was awful, it took me over an hour, my PB is just under 12 minutes.

A Hill

This hill was a nightmare, luckily there was plenty to look at as I climbed it. Including a memorial for the Highland Clearance victims. I found myself a bit choked by it, statues of a family being forced from their home. Ant and Ed hadn't heard of the clearance so giving them a geek fest history lesson passed some time. When we finally got to the top we celebrated big hill number one being conquered by having a brew. Dad was already in a layby with a family who had stopped to have a chat as they had seen me a number of times last few days. The dad of the family warned me about the second climb, he said it was very steep and had some bad bends on it.

Memorial

The family that stopped to chat.

I decided to set off before long as it was getting quite late. There was a smaller hill between Helmsdale and Berriedale and that was hard enough. We decided to phone the campsite to check if there was a time we needed to be there by but we were told not to worry. So on we went, down to just a few feet above sea level before tackling a bitch of a hill.

More rain on its way!

  On many parts of the hill I struggled to keep moving forward, Ed had to keep catching me from rolling back down the hill. Ant was fantastic at keeping me motivated. Dad shouted me on from wherever he could. I'd tried edging my way forward just using the tyres on not the push rims to give me more leverage but with the gaffer tape on the gloves it wasn't as effective as it was in Cornwall. I resorted to zigzagging across the road and back again. It was such a slow way to move forward but it was the best thing I could think of so Ant and Ed were checking for traffic and when it was safe I was cutting across the road and back again, inching my way forward.

Hated this hill.

 I was knackered, the closest to tears I had been on the trip. I was falling asleep and absolutely goosed. It was starting to get towards twilight and there was an invasion of slugs onto the road. It was a strange sight hundreds of slugs crossing the road. Ed then came out with one of those lines where you really had to be there for. I still giggle about it now. My best gay mate suddenly said
"do you know, its been years since I've seen a big fat black one!"
Just to clarify, he was talking about the slugs. There was a moment of silence after he said it, almost as if all three of us were waiting to see who'd be the child first. Then all three of us were in hysterics, I was crying so much I couldn't see where I was going, I even bloody dribbled! Ed was performing his ridiculously loud laugh at the top of his voice, Ant was struggling for breath, we were all like a group of high teenagers! We eventually calmed down and carried on climbing but every few minutes one of us started giggling and we'd all end up in hysterics again. It made it even more difficult to climb, crying with laugher at the end of 110 miles in two days whilst having two broken ribs hurts like hell! That mile climbing out of Berriedale took me 42 minutes, probably the slowest mile of my life.

Knackered.

When I finally got to the top of the hill I Wanted to get out of my chair as fast as possible so at the first semi safe place I could get in the motorhome I did. I'd done what I needed to do, I still had 40 miles to do on Day 20 but barring anything going wrong I should get to John O'Groats.
  The campsite for the last night was a bit shit, it was the back garden on a house on the main road. It was the first campsite that charged us on the whole challenge and it was the worst site too. The owner was rude to Ed, she'd also left snotty notes around the shower block. "Remove shoes, I don't clean for fun" and "This door is here for a reason: Close It!".
I'd got quite used to doing my short video interviews by now but it took so many attempts to get this one out. I kept forgetting where I had been and I kept giggling about black slugs. Myself and Ed were stood outside filming it and we were getting eaten alive by the famous Scottish Midge! I was in that much pain with my ribs I couldn't even sit in my day chair to film it!

Day 19 Afternoon Stats

Miles: 21.84
Time: 3:19:41
Average Moving Speed: 6.6mph
Top Speed: 36.4mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 21 - 41:53 (By far the slowest of the challenge)
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 10 - 2:21
Total Ascent: 1905ft (OOOOOOOOuch!!!)
Average Heart Rate: 135bpm
Max Heart Rate: 157bpm

Day 19 Afternoon Progress Maps

Total Daily Mileage: 50.74

Lisbon Half Marathon Day 3 and Race Day 2015

On day 4 I went back to the track in the morning. Just for an easy 5km, I pushed really well and felt comfortable so I was feeling much more confident about the race than I had done a few days earlier. After training I went back and chilled out in the hotel before meeting Jenny, Mickey and Justin to go on a tour of the course, we were put on a separate bus to the other athletes and Jenny told us we were meeting Joao in the city for a coffee then looking at the course after. Unfortunately something had gotten lost in translation and we ended up in the city centre doing the tourist thing without actually meeting Joao. We did manage to see a good artist painting at the dockside, a fancy port shop, we got caught up in an anti racism rally and stuffed our faces with chestnuts from the street vendors. We didn't actually get to see the course but we did have a good day and it made a nice change to thinking about the race 24/7.
Before the evening meal we had the technical meeting,  you never learn anything in these meetings but they must have to have them for the race insurance. I sat with Jenny opposite Dave who we both knew was on snapchat from the way Simon Lawson was giggling away, god only knows what they drew on our faces! After the meeting and food it was time for final prep, numbers taped to the chairs, compensators checked and tyres checked. My front tyre didn't look in great shape so I decided to change it for a brand new one. Once that was done I got myself off to bed nice and early.
  Race day came and I went to breakfast before most, I wanted to eat early so it wasn't sat heavy on my stomach. It was soon time to get on the bus and have the now ritual laugh at the police men in their knee high leather boots who were there to escort the convoy to the start. When we got off the bus we waited around for a short while and pumped tyres up until it was time to warm up. I warmed up really well and felt great.
  Soon enough I was sat on the start line and the gun was fired. Just like last year I ended up in a big group only this year I had lots of team mates for company. Shelly,  Mo,  John, Justin,  Mickey and I were joined by Jade and Callum, it felt great being part of such a big group which was mainly Brits. We were batting along at a good rate with the more experienced racers helping out the newer ones by telling them to tuck in etc. It was brilliant we all took our turn at the front. I was feeling really good at about 7km and with Justin and Shelly at the front we quickly decided to try and break away. I pushed on and quickly decided that wasn't the right place for me to put an effort in as there was a very very gradual uphill and a bit of a breeze. I'm not quite as powerful as other athletes so any climb or wind puts me at a disadvantage. Before I had managed to say anything Justin had shouted tuck in I will take this. Justin pulled us the final 400m to the turn around point. As soon as I got to the bend I hit the front and really kicked as hard as I could. Shelly shouting encouragement the whole time, over the next 2km we completely ripped the group apart. We had gone from a group of about 18 to just Shelly,  John,  Justin, a random Portuguese athlete and myself. I did the majority of that work which I was feeling so proud about as everybody in the original group should have been faster than me. I should have been hanging on for dear life but instead I had just put a bomb under the group. I had in my head that Shelly was on course for a world record and I was playing my a part in that. I know I will never be fast enough to get anywhere near a world record but playing a part in a record for somebody else was giving me a buzz. Then... disaster.... pssssssssssss... front tyre popped... fuck, shit, twat, bollocks. Shelly said "unlucky mate" and the group I'd worked so hard to pull away from the others just sailed passed me. I stopped pushing for a few seconds and then made the decision that I might be able to salvage something and I carried on. I had done over 10km so only another 10km to go. The tyre deflated completely and then started to catch on the brake pads which slowed me further and pulled the chair to the right so i had to constantly correct it which takes a lot of core strength. Within about 3km Mo had caught me, I shouted that I couldn't help him out and told him to kick on. I then had a very lonely race to the finish where I just ground out the best pace I could. As normal in the last quarter of the race I started doing sums to predict my finish time and to my shock I was still on course for a decent PB. Unfortunately the tarmac deteriorated in the last part of the race and with a flat tyre my wheel was getting thrown around, my speed was reduced and I only ended up with a 9 second PB which I am now proud of but at the time I could have cried.
  Once I crossed the line I turned round to see Callum and Jade crossing the line. I realised that apart from Mo nobody from the original group had passed me when my tyre popped so I must of put some serious distance between us when I broke the group. Jade was whisked off to get her second place prize so I waited for Callum before pushing to the minibus. He clearly wasn't happy so I asked if he was ok, he had a little rant about tactics but stopped himself midway through, mi apologised if he thought I had done anything out of order but he said it wasn't me. I felt a little awkward because I didn't actually see anything untoward,  maybe it was bumping and barging in the first few miles by the newer racers who aren't used to racing in a pack. I'm still not sure how or why Callum got so pissed off by it but he went on to tweet and post on Facebook about it, him and Jade didn't eat with the rest of us that evening which wasn't a good feeling. I would prefer all  the British athletes to get on well and work together when we are  abroad.  It makes sense to work together and produce good times. I now think Callum must have thought there were team orders for Weir Archer racers which if there were team orders I wasn't told about them. There was no planning we just got on and did it. I really like both Callum and Jade, I enjoy having a good laugh with them and I wouldn't ever work against them or sabotage their races.

Lisbon Half Marathon 2015 day 1

  After an awful winters training things finally turned a corner a few weeks back so I decided to make the trip to Lisbon to race on the super fast course.

In the last couple of days before travelling I had the normal panic about if I was fit enough to mix  be here, if I'd done enough training and if I was even good enough to be invited. I always check my welds again and again to see if they show any signs of failing, I check my tyres are still in good nick and I check my bearings. The welds were good, tyres passable and the bearings... well the bearings were goosed! They were so bad that I couldn't get my axel to turn once when I gave it a flick, panic!! Last time I changed my bearings I managed to break the new ones whilst putting them in. I rushed down to the local cycling shop to get some new once and then set about changing them. After watching a couple of YouTube videos on how to change bearings I managed to do it in 30 seconds or so.  Absolutely no idea how I managed to spend 2 hours doing it last time! I've always said I was a bit special! I needed to check the new bearings were running well so I went out on my 10 mile loop, wow! I felt like I was floating. I can't believe I hadn't noticed they needed changing, what a tit!
I also needed to drop the dog off at the mothers, take my chair in bits, box the chair, get my haircut and sort out insurance for dad driving my car to the airport an for my chair during the trip. I seem to have inherited a tendancy to leave things until the last minute like my dad does. It really annoys me when he does it but I do it too, something I need to work on.
Today me and dad set off at 6:30 am to get to the airport on time. When we got to the airport we both commented on how easy it was this time to find the car park and  get into the the terminal. The reason it was so much easier and better sign posted was because we were at the wrong bloody terminal. We had to trek the best part of a mile pushing my box which weighs a ton, dodging kamikaze old ladies diving in front of me on route. Once at the right terminal I checked in and took my box, wheels and luggage to the over sized area. I said goodbye to dad and got his usual "give'um hell lad" instead of good luck. Bless him. I met up with the other northern wheelchair racers in the Costa and had a coffee and a good old chin wag.
  I was surprised that Mark Conway and Bret Crossley weren't going to be racing, I have never been to Portugal without these too and I had been thinking of one liners to give Bret about his habit of crashing! Jade Jones, Callum Hall, Simon Lawson and Mickey Bushell were the other athletes. Callum is fairly new to the sport and he's improving really quickly, I only met him once before but he's a good laugh. I've known of Mickey for a few years now but not really had chance to talk to him until today, cracking lad! I know Jade and Simon quite well now and I like and respect both of them! I wish I had their talent!
When we landed in Portugal the airport porter who helps the disabled passengers came and patted me on the back, it was the same guy from the last time I came in October,  he asked if I remembered him! What a nice guy he is, really jolly and genuinely interested in what wheelchair racing is all about. I did feel pretty famous being recognised in a foreign country!  Paulo met us at the airport with a van for all the luggage and a fancy minibus with leather seats for us. We are staying in a different hotel this year, it is the one in which we had the press conference last year, very nice! Well very nice except we have no kettle in the room?!?! Do they not know the English can't function without tea?
After a couple of hours Dave Weir CBE and our coach Jenny Archer MBE arrived, they had driven here! It was great to see Jenny because I haven't had chance to see her recently. I went to shake Dave's hand and missed and gave him the campest handshake in history, how embarrassing!  I am rooming with Justin Levene again which I would have chosen to do if I had the choice, he's the athlete I think I have the most in common with. Shelly Woods,  John Smith and Mo Jomni are flying out on Saturday,  there are more British athletes in the race than there are Portuguese!
The food this evening was great, I had sea bass with rice followed by a huge heap of fruit. Whilst we were all sat around the table Mo Farah arrived and he had a good chat with Dave.  I still get a bit star struck by Mo even though I have met him a few times now!
Going to cut this one short as it is getting late. I shall blog again tomorrow. 

Lisbon Half Marathon Race Day

Race day arrived and I woke at 6AM,  half an hour before my alarm, who needs sleep anyhow? I'd got everything I needed ready the night before so it was just a case of putting the kit on under my joggers and rolling down to breakfast, I always find it hard to eat on race day which is unusual for me coz I  love my grub! I forced down a few slices of toast and a couple of espressos which I don't really like. I then got myself ready to leave for the start. There were a lot of different makes of chairs in the hotel lobby, I like looking at foreign chairs. In the UK we only really see three makes of chair and they all look very similar so I am always taking note when looking at foreign chairs checking for new developments.
Soon enough it was time to get on the minibuses, the chairs were all packed in vans whilst the convoy waited for the police escorts to arrive. Portuguese police motorbike riders wear knee high brown boots with heels - very camp! Not sure if they are allowed to but they are always smoking. They ride like absolute nutters, once we set off everyone on the minibus was gasping at the riding antics out in front of us. In previous races the police had provided a lot more riders so the few we had were stretched to try and stop traffic, let us through red lights and keep the convoy together.
Once we got to the start, Justin and I rushed off to the toilet. We learnt last year that leaving the none flushing portatoilets until after the Kenyan runners had used them wasn't the most pleasant experience in the world. We had arrived at the start in plenty of time so there was no mad rush to get in our chairs like at the Great North Run. I took my time to get ready, eating a few jelly babies as I did. Once in my chair I did a couple of miles warming up and then made my way to the start.
We had been told at the technical meeting the previous evening that the women elite runners would be starting at the same time as us but on the other side of the road to us and we wasn't expected to meet them until the second roundabout.  There were some nervous looking people at the thought of that, 99% of races set us off before the runners to give us chance to get away. When we got to the start there was a bloke with a loud hailer telling us we would have to keep right as the women were on the left, not on the other side of the road but actually in the same lane as us! Complete madness! I don't think the wheelchair race organisers knew, they are brilliant at what they do and I doubt they would ever agree to this! It would be bad in any race but Lisbon has a roundabout just 70m after the start and we take the 3rd exit. Then we climb up a short but steep hill before turning right. The gun went and we set off, the runners getting away faster and us catching them right at the roundabout,  we had to take it wide to leave them enough room but it meant we couldn't manoeuvre around the slower chairs. We climbed at the same rate as the runners and then they just cut across us and separated us all from each other, it was like wacky races. We had kept right when they had the shortest route but they didn't care about our race when we had the racing line, how nobody was run over I will never know. I had a cracking start but found myself separated from the front pack by a group of joggers, elite joggers should have more sense about how they effect other people! By the time I got round the elite joggers the front pack had gone, there was no chance of me catching them now, I kept going hard waiting for someone else to come by me so we could work together to catch the group back up. The first person to catch me was Bret, I tried to draft him but he was in full flight and I can't match his speed yet. One day I will! Next to pass me was Justin, I managed to hang on to Justin for a few hundred meters but he was soon gone.

At the first turn around point I was way behind Bret and about 30m down on Justin. Sammy was about 200m behind me and when we passed each other I gave her a big shout, maybe that was the wrong thing to do as Justin seemed to kick on after that he extended his lead to about 120m. Eventually I pulled my finger out and started to close the gap, it took a few miles but I got back in contact with Justin. I wasn't sure if I should push past him as soon as I caught him or shelter behind him for a while. Stupidly I chose to whip round him, I'd just had a really hard couple of miles trying to close the gap so I didn't have much of an effort left in my arms to try and get rid. I think I might have briefly opened up a 5m gap but I never broke away and I had to settle in behind Justin for a while. About 400m before the turn around point I hit a pothole again and swore loudly, I think Justin heard again because he seemed to kick on and by the turn around point he had opened a small gap on me.

 After I turned I realised the second half of the race was going to be hard work! The wind was awfull, it was blowing at 27mph straight at us. I'm not very big for a wheelchair athlete so I do not have the strength to push into strong head winds. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep it going. I was pleasantly surprised at how well I was pushing into the wind, the work in the gym at alpha is paying off but i still have a way to go yet. Justin slowly extended his lead over me. My PB also slowly slipped away, it was hard to keep positive but the course and weather wasn't on my side. Towards the end of the race a copper let a runner walk out right in front of me, I wasn't sure of the Portuguese for "get out the f**king way. Idiot." so I just shouted it in English extra loudly. Then I turned down the steep hill in which starts my least favourite finish of any race I have ever done. At the bottom of the hill we have a 90 degree turn through a narrow gap on to cobbles, cobbles with speedbumps. It truly is an awful finish. This year a few chairs, wheels and tyres were damaged. Luckily my equipment survived the finishing straight, I did cut my hip a couple of times but I do that on the roads of Rossendale anyway.

 Finish line crossed Justin ushered me into my day chair because he wanted to go collect his free beer! We dragged Mark along and collected the complimentary straw hats on the way to the free beer. We rolled past an angry looking Bret who was dissecting yet another crash, we all felt for him but none of us could let it get in the way of beer. Once free beer we were momentarily distracted by free ice lollies shortly after we all looked like stereotypical Brits on tour; sweaty, vest and straw hat wearing blokes with a beer in one hand and an ice lolly in the other. After a while Bret came and joined us but he wasn't the most chatty he had ever been, we all struggled to make conversation when was clearly at the end of his tether. Bret is a cracking bloke but he really is bloody clumsy in his chair!

Back at the hotel we all got in touch with friends any family to let them know how we'd done, I was ninth in 56:30 so not a great time but considering the wind and the race conditions it wasn't too bad at all, most people were further behind their best times than I was. Once showered and changed Justin, Mark, Bret and myself headed down to the new part of the city. We headed to the river and started to make our way along towards the old part, over cobbles, again! We even stumbled across some Portuguese doggers, well everyone but Bret did. Not sure how he managed to miss them when the rest of us were laughing and pointing but miss them he did, maybe that's a clue why he crashes so often! We realised we had underestimated the distance between the new and old city and turned back. When we passed to doggers they had finished and were much older and less attractive than we had imagined. We took a roll along a boardwalk... a boardwalk with inch and half gaps between planks perfect for wheelchair wheels to fall through. So we pushed about 800m zigzagging to avoid falling through. We didn't half get some funny looks even though we had removed our straw hats before leaving the hotel. We then spent about 40min in a mall waiting for each other to pop out of the lifts on the right floor. Back at the hotel Joao and Paulo laughed their tits off at us for trying to push from the new town to the old town apparently a round trip would have been much much further than the half marathon we had already competed in that day. When we mentioned the doggers Paulo, without even a seconds thought, asked if they were next to the VW garage which they were! Something you're not telling us Paulo?

It was a brilliant trip to Portugal, I can't wait to go back in March and race on the fast course, hopefully this time Dan and Sanj can travel with me as well as Weir Archer having a bigger contingent there racing. More racers means more drafting and faster times. For now it's a case of me upping my training load and getting stronger in the gym so I can edge closer to the big boys!

Great North Run 2014

So 2014 was the first year that Bupa have offered to put me up in the elite hotel which was a nice surprise. It was offered after I had been emailed yet again to be told there was no room at the inn. It was slightly bittersweet when I found out my club mate and friend Justin Levene hadn't been put up. The rooming policy at Bupa Great Run events seems to be a bit of a secret - if one actually exists. In my mind the rooms for wheelchair athletes should be given to the fastest athletes first and people doing it for the challenge should have to pay their own way, in the same way you wouldn't expect Mo Farah to be told to book himself in to a hotel whilst fun runners were put up in the elite hotel. The race missed out on another British athlete up front as Justin couldn't afford to make the journey to Newcastle for the race with no support from Bupa, big big shame.
  Anyway, I was one of the first athletes to arrive at the hotel on the Saturday. I checked in and had a quick nap in the room before going down to get lunch. I met up with Simon Lawson on the way and we ended up having lunch together, it was great to catch up. Simon is a great lad and an impressive athlete -he went on to finish second in the race the following day. After lunch I went down to the riverside to watch the street athletics. It's great to see athletics pulling in the crowds. Although it was a sad day do see Andy Turner in his final race, what a cracking athlete for Team GB. I had a good mooch around the city, up and down those bloody hills and then headed back to the hotel to wait for the other athletes arriving.
   I tried my best to direct a few people around the diversions to get to the hotel. I was told several times people could see the hotel but couldn't get to it. I have to admit I felt a bit smug that I had set off early and didn't have the stress of thinking I was going to miss the technical meeting. Although Martyna Snopek didn't find my smugness amusing when she phoned to say she had got to the hotel but couldn't find a parking place and I asked if she had "tried the car park?" .... she hadn't tried the car park incase you were wondering. My new sponsors were the next to be directed in by me. Dan Whittaker and Sanjay Joy of Alpha Fitness and Rehab based in Rossendale have been amazing with me and nursed me back fitness after all my injuries this summer. I have been so so lucky to get this deal, free personal strength and conditioning sessions three or four times a week, roller sessions, massage, acupuncture,  taping and they have even found a welder for my chair! Dan and Sanjay made the trip north to support me in the race. They massaged my dodgy back just after they arrived and also delt with Martyna's sore pec/chest/tit. The technical meeting was next on the agenda which was the usual boring description of the course and the warning about the final downhill on to Southshield's seafront. The good thing about the technical meeting is we get fed after it! I had a good chat in the queue for the food with Stephen Kiprotich, the 2012 Olympic marathon champion , from Uganda. He was really interested in how fast the chairs go and we compared pb's, he did drop a bit of a clanger when he asked if wheelchair athletes had to train although he was genuinely interested in how many sessions and miles we fit in each week. The food was the usual pre race chicken and rice - I love both so the blandness doesn't bother me.
After food everybody drifted back to their rooms, I had been allocated a room with Mark Conway who is always a pleasure to share with. It's been fantastic to see him improve so quickly these last 18 months or so. We sat up chatting for a couple of hours then I decided to try and get some shut eye. I was really nervous as the race had snowballed in significance for me during the build up so I knew I was going to struggle to nod off. The Great North will always be special for me as I used to love the Rossendale Harriers coach trips away when I was 5, 6, 7 years old and the odd one as a teenager to watch my old man in his favourite race. This year's race was my comeback after a shitty couple of months with injuries, health troubles and chair breakages. It was the race that fell closest to the 25th anniversary of the day my dad took me for my first training session at Rossendale Harriers. It was also my first race after picking up the alpha sponsorship and I wanted to do the lads proud.
I woke up on race day ready to go, I hate eating breakfast on race day; nerves make it really difficult to eat but having Martyna there was great - I was worrying about her injured tit which took the nerves away from me! I had the now customary espresso - if it's good enough for Dave it's good enough for us all, even if I do think it tastes crap! After breakfast Dan and Sanjay taped up my back and Martyna's, er,  tit and then we waited in the hotel lobby for the coach to take us to the start.... and waited. .. and waited. Eventually we got on the coach and made our way through the 55,000 runners who were walking to the start. It does make you feel like a celebrity especially when people are trying to look at who is in the coach. When we got to the start we were warned that because the staff had got us to the start late the warm up time would be significantly shorter than normal. As soon as we were out of the coach we were oined about getting in our race chairs ASAP! Not a chance I was getting in my chair until I had been for my last nervous pee! Pee done, I transfered into my race chair and managed about a quarter of my usual warm up before we were called to the start line. I hadn't seen the starting grid so I just got myself in a good position on the second row behind the Spanish lad who I thought would win and therefore start well, I was right on one count he won but he was slow off the mark.
  After the TV introductions I glanced up at the clock above the start line and noticed it had ticked past the official start time, I got into the set position as fast as I could and a split second after I was in position the gun went, no warning, no on your marks just the gun! Most were not ready including Jordi Jimenez the eventual winner who I had lined up behind. I rammed him and shouted something along the lines of "c'mon! ". The balls up at the start really got me worked up and I hammered my pushrims and despite the problems had a cracking start, I was in 6th for the first mile or so feeling great. At 2 miles I was in a nice little group with my roommate Mark, fellow northerner Bret Crossley, Shelly Woods and Jade Jones we briefly worked well together but as soon as we got to the hill that climbs out of Newcastle to Gateshead Stadium I didn't feel my usual self. I tried hard to stick with the group, but I let them slip away - not by much but too far for me to draft off the group. When the road flattened out I tried and toiled and worked and gritted my teeth to close the gap on the group which was starting to break up. The gap narrowed but I didn't close in on the athletes in front before the next climb. That was it, I knew I would be pushing a mainly solo race for the next 8 miles.

   Resigned to the fact I was going to have a tough race with no drafting I started to settle in to a rhythm that I thought I could keep going at and beat my PB, the old morale got a boost when I went through the 10 km mark almost 2 min under my 10 km PB. Doing sums in my head and taking into account the second half of the race is slower than the first I thought I was on for a PB of about 2 min and finish in the high 51's. That gave my pushing a boost and I started to close the now large gap between me and the athletes in front. At about 7 miles some idiot controlling one of the showers the runners go through to keep themselves cool decided to turn it on right before I got to it. I'm not sure why it was in the main carriageway as all the others were switched off as I went passed and positioned in a bus stop pull in but it was impossible to avoid. The guy who was controlling it got a mouthful from me and my gloves and pushrims got soaked which seriously slowed me down for the next half a mile or so. The next mishap happened at the 8 mile mark and it was a major mishap. My chair frame developed a crack in the frame on the wheel arch, each time I pushed the crack opened and the frame flexed so much the wheel touched the side of the frame making a squelching noise and slowing the chair down. I could of pulled out of the race there and then, for a split second I did consider it but it was only a split second and I'm pretty proud that it only took a split second to decide to nurse my chair to the end. A year ago I would of pulled out of the race with no hesitation. The next mile or so of the race I spent trying to find the maximum about of power I could hit the pushrims with that didn't open up the cracks, it was a fairly decent pace on the flat but on the ascents it was pitifully slow. Climbing slowly allowed Mel Nicholls to catch me, I did get back passed her on a flat part of the course and even opened a gap but another long dragging climb meant she overtook again and disappeared off in to the distance. The final hurdle In my race was the steep decent, unfortunately I had to take it really steady because I didn't want my wheel to fall off at 30mph!  Once I was down the hill my final mile was fairly quick but the cracks had cost me a few minutes.  I finished 9th in 54:36 which was 3 places and 70 seconds better than last year.
When I crossed the line I was completely devastated,  I thought I had let myself and my team of supporters down. I like to cross a finish line and know there was nothing more I could have done, I like to throw the kitchen sink at races and finish without the energy to hold my head up. In this race I was fairly fresh at the end and I hadn't punished my body. Instead, it was my chair that couldn't go any faster. Once I had calmed down a bit I began to come round to the idea that me and my chair are a team and we are only as good as the weakest link, we had done the best that we could do on the day and to beat last year's time with only three and a half weeks training and a broken chair was a pretty good result.
After the TV interviews and the awards ceremony we were transported back to the hotel for my favourite part of the Great North Run weekend; the post race meal in the Hilton. I love the food there, it's amazing and chatting about the race with all the other athletes is great too. The drive home was less great!

Rock n Roll Half Marathon, Lisbon 2013

Report from October 2013

I’ve just got back from my first international race as a wheelchair athlete in Lisbon, Portugal. It was an invite only race so I was pretty surprised to get an invite 8 weeks ago as at the time my PB was a next to useless 77min.

  I am part of the Weir Archer Academy which was set up in April by David Weir and his long term coach Jenny Archer – I’m sure David needs no introduction but his (and now my) coach is little known outside disability sport and that is a huge shame. Jenny coached David to six Paralympic golds, four of which were in London last year she has also guided him to six London Marathon wins, four world records and British records at every distance from 100m to Marathon! She also worked with the famous Wimbledon Crazy Gang and was known as the ‘woman who tamed the crazy gang’! Anybody who is considered to have tamed Dennis wise, John Fashanu, Lawrie Sanchez and Vinnie Jones is obviously hard as nails! Jenny and Dave wanted to get involved with this whole legacy thing that we had drummed into us all during the London Games, they took it upon themselves to set up a group where disabled athletes can get world class coaching and access to all the backroom support that international athletes get.

Being a member of the Weir Archer Academy is what got me invited to the race along with four other WAA athletes; My mates who did the Manchester to Blackpool push with me which CLEM members helped with Kirsty Grange and Stuart Bloor along with London based athletes Ash Archer and Justin Levine. When I got the invite I spoke to Jenny and we said if I accepted I needed to get some serious work done as 77min wasn’t an acceptable PB, I spent a week on a new training program whilst I decided if I should accept or not. I loved training twice a day and doing the extra milage so I decided to give it a crack. All I had to do was find £160 for my flights everything else was paid for by the organisers.

Five weeks into my new training plan I did the Tyne Tunnel 2km and Great North Run. The Tyne Tunnel race is the fastest wheelchair race in the world and I finished 9th overall and 3rd Brit. I was over 2min faster than last year and enjoyed every moment!

Two days later I did the GNR one year after the course almost made me quit racing because of the pain I was in for a few weeks after the race. This year I was in a new chair custom built to fit me exactly, I was fitter and lighter. I really enjoyed the race this year and  smashed my PB with 55:36 and 12th place. I think that is the one and only time I will ever have a 22min PB! The weekend in Newcastle gave me a huge boost of confidence and made me knuckle down and train even harder out on the roads of Rossendale and down at Barden Lane track for the last 3 weeks building up towards the Lisbon race.

I flew out on Thursday morning, had quite a few people in the airport doing the ‘trying not to stare’ routine. I guess a lad pushing a wheelchair with one hand whilst pushing a race chair along in front with his spare hand complete with suitcase, spare wheels and pump stacked on top is a fairly unusual sight! Whilst sat in departures the mother phoned to wish me luck and remind me that last time I competed abroad I ended up in a wheelchair so I “wasn’t to do anything stupid” – yeah, cheers for that mum!

We were met at the airport in Lisbon by the race staff who had our chairs in a van and us in a car on the way to the elite athletes hotel in no time. The hotel was the same one the England football team stayed in during Euro 2004, my apartment had three bedrooms, two bathrooms a kitchen and large lounge with a wrap around balcony. I shared with Justin and Ash, who are both fairly new to the sport like me. We had time to explore the hotel, test out the indoor pool and sauna, pick up a start list and google everybody’s PB’s before tea. The dinner table was like a who’s who of wheelchair road racing with most of the athletes being paralympians. Friday morning was spent chatting with the foreign lads and picking up tips on everything from gluing sandpaper to gloves for grip in wet weather to how much pressure to put in tyres on a rough course like Lisbon. At lunch time all the elite athletes able bodied and disabled were taken to a press conference at the Hilton. I have to say sitting through two hours of foreign politicians making speeches which looked to be of the mutual back patting type was extremely boring when you don’t speak a word of Portuguese, a few of the Kenyans fell asleep!! The speeches were followed by the papers taking photo’s and once we were all suitably blinded by the flash bulbs we were led to the dinning room for lunch. I managed to make an idiot of my self on the way by pulling a hand rail off the leather lined walls of the lift – still it got a cheer and a round of applause from all the other wheelers waiting for the lift!

Lunch made up for the two hours of boredom a thousand times over, swordfish and it was b.e.a.u.tiful and once I knew it was definitely free the northerner in me came to the fore ‘owt for nowt’….. I had an apple crumble for desert, followed by gateaux..followed by fruit salad… followed by chocolate cheesecake. All of which were great! After stuffing my face at the Hilton we had a couple of hours rest before a training session at Portugal’s national athletics center which was built into the side of a hill which meant it had virtually no wind at all. The track was old and worn which made it really fast for chairs as there was no give in the surface. Jenny had us do an easy 10km, it was hard to hold back on such a fast track when I felt so fit, I didn’t want to give anything away to my competitors so each time somebody was near me on the track I stopped pushing and started doing arm drills instead.

Saturday morning we had another session on the same track, just an easy 5km. As soon as the minibus and van stopped I was out and in my chair, I got the 5km done whilst others were still messing about getting sorted before starting the session. That suited me and helped me with my tactic of not giving anything away. In the afternoon I had a massage from the race physio on a niggle in my shoulder that Garry Wilkinson has been working on at home. I ate my own body weight in rice and had an early night.

On race day I was up and ready for breakfast at 6AM, WAA athletes and Jenny had a table to ourselves and she did a great job of calming us all down. Once our chairs had been loaded all the elite athletes traveled to the start in convoy with a police escort, complete with out riders who closed off roundabouts and traffic light controlled junctions to let us speed through. We had a 200m long stretch of road on a hill to warm up on which was soon filled with nervous looking athletes, about 5min before the start we had our final team talk from Jenny and then made our way to the start grid. I was 4 rows back but there were another 4 rows behind me so it was the furthest forward I have ever started a race. Once in position Jenny went round her athletes and whispered a final instruction for each individual. She has a way of getting the best from us and I used my instruction through the course.

Once the gun went there was the usual mad dash for the racing line, my main targets were Stuart who was next to me on the start grid, Bret Crossley who beat me by over three minutes at the Great North and was on the row in front of me along with Shelly Woods who also beat me at the great North by a few minutes (however old we get and however good they are, lads don’t like losing to girls!). I knew lads in the row behind were gunning for me so I started fast and shot around Shelly before the roundabout  followed by a steep climb 80m into the course. Stuart stuck by my side up the climb and I think we were both a little surprised that Bret had stole a march on us, Bret is faster than both of us but he isn’t usually as strong on the climbs. we spent a kilometer or so closing the gap on him and by the next hill we had caught him and passed him. Stu then worked at the front for three kilometers or so and I hung on like hell, to be honest he had me blowing big time but I didn’t let him go. By kilometer six we had caught a Portuguese athlete but Bret had caught us, I noticed the Portuguese guy pushing one handed for long periods and it annoyed me he was keeping up with me so I hit the front of our group and tried to drop him. After going past the 10km mark in 24:29 (1min 37 under my 10km PB) I decided I’d done my bit and asked Stu to take over at the front. I tucked in behind him and unfortunately he took us straight to a huge pothole, Stu hit it, I rammed Stu and hit the pothole but Bret and the Portuguese one armed bandit managed to swerve round us and keep their speed.

We spent another two kilometers closing back in on the pair of them when Bret’s tyre exploded – it’s awful seeing that happen to a mate but there is nothing you can do about it. The one armed bandit almost stopped pushing until we caught him, he really didn’t like doing any work at the front of the group. At kilometer 14 I was starting to think about the finish line and the fact that my training buddy has a much much faster 100m pb to me. I’d never been with him at any point other than the first 5km in my other two Half Marathons but I decided to try an wind it up ‘Paula Style’ and drop him before the finish. I worked my backside off and opened a gap on three occasions but each time the course threw a hill at me. Stuart only has one leg so his power to weight ratio is slightly better than mine as I have two useless limbs to carry around with me, he closed the gap each time and the inevitable happened…. We hit the last 300m and he shot round me along with the one armed bandit who was now pushing with both arms again. The Finish was an experience to say the least, it was made with small uneven cobbles complete with speed bumps (who the hell speeds on cobbles?) it was like riding rodeo and I seriously thought I was going to end up out of the chair. Stu and the part-time one armed bandit both got given the same finish time and they had taken 6 seconds out of me but I was mega happy with my 8th place and 54:26 taking 1:10 off my three week old PB on such a rough old course was a good day at the office.

At the finish line everyone was comparing war wounds and missing kit, there were GoPro, Garmin, race gloves, push rims and tyres that had been lost whilst trying to stay seated in the home straight…. luckily I had only lost my Jelly Babies that I hadn’t had chance to eat.

That night the Weir Archer crew hit the hotel bar with Shelly Woods and her fella. We had a few beers and swapped stories just like I would have done after a big race as a runner. It was a cracking trip and I learnt so much from both my coach, the other athletes and the organisers (who did a cracking job). I can’t wait for my next opportunity to wear the Clayton vest abroad.