Lands End to John O'Groats Day 9 - The History Lesson

Day 9 Morning
Both Ant and Nick were slow to get out of their pits again on Day 9 and with me next to useless because of my rib pain I couldn't help Ed get things ready. I was struggling getting the footage downloaded from the cameras because the table was still full of spares, luggage and racing kit. The tables couldn't be cleared because the stuff was put on the beds during the day and Ant and Nick were still in the bloody beds. Ed and myself kept making a lot of noise and throwing hints to get them up but they took their time. When they eventually got up I told Nick he'd have to set his alarm 25 min earlier than the rest of us in the morning and Ant would have to get up when Ed got up and not 20 minutes after. Nick had a strop about me asking him to get up earlier when Ant was late up too. The difference was that Ant was running round shifting the kit where as Nick's getting up was him leaving his bed, to sit on my bed whilst he rolled a fag, then go out and smoke his fag whilst the rest of us got on with the work, he'd then come back in to his breakfast on the table waiting for him. It was our first bit of agro. The younger two were shattered so struggling to get up, I was sleep deprived, in pain and suffering from my med withdrawal like every morning. I was being a grumpy sod but I've been brought up to make sure the work is done before I sort myself out and I've never thought that smokers should be treated differently. I've always thought its a strange habit anyway, let's get some dead leaves. wrap them in paper, set fire to it and then suck it. Who thought of that?
   I'm not very tactful at the best of times, you might have noticed whilst reading my blog, but when I'm in pain I can be a bit of an arsehole. That said, I'd say the same again. We didn't get to the start on the A49 in Shrewsbury until gone 10:00AM, The day I pushed my biggest total I was in my chair and pushing before 8:30AM so we'd all let things slip.

I'm looking really tired in the pre push pic.

Once on our way we were back chatting normally again, I get on really well with Nick so we can be pretty honest with each other and it just blows over. We passed through an place called Battlefield just after setting off which was pretty apt with my morning rant. I was battling pain again on this push it was pretty bad and the same as the previous day I had to pull over for more pain relief at the 6 mile point. The pain killers I am on are very strong, they give you the good ones when you have a tumour made of bone playing havoc with your pelvis. The downside to having very strong painkillers is I had to stop pushing, get out the chair and eat something whenever I took one. So we had a brew and some toast, popped a pill, and got on our way again.

A59 times.

We were travelling through some lovely countryside, there were hills but they weren't steep or too high, it was good pushing. I didn't know it at the time but we came within 1 mile of the Welsh border. If I'd have known I would most definitely popped over the border just to say I'd visited all three countries on our little island. ... I say little, it felt like a bloody big island so far on the challenge and I wasn't even half way yet! Not long after our close encounter with the Welsh I needed to stop again. We were near a place called Whitchurch. This time I thought if we put some more foam under my knees to raise them up it might cause another part of my rib cage to bang on my knees rather than my broken ribs. Anything was worth a go at this point. I guess it did work to some extent but I'd also eased back on the effort and was enjoying the views and chatting to Nick rather than stressing about my speed.

Me and my shadow!

Once I'd passed the Marathon mark in 2:25 I decided we would stop in the next suitable place so Nick spoke to Ant and Ed and asked them to pull in at the next layby they found. The layby was only half a mile away but they already had the deckchairs out and the kettle on when Nick and I got there. Although a marathon is a lot further than I had originally planned to do in the mornings it was less than I had been doing for a good few days. I still had the thought that I needed to catch a couple of days back to make sure Nick made it to Scotland for the reasons I explained in an earlier blog. I knew I couldn't push myself much harder at the moment because if the ribs got worse it risked me not finishing. I felt like I was on a tightrope walk, too many miles and I'd fall off on the injury side and too few miles and I fall off on the no haggis for Nick side.

Nick attempting to take off!

Day 9 Morning Stats

Miles: 26.74
Time: 2:28:06
Average Moving Speed: 10.8mph
Top Speed: 31.2mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 6 - 9:17
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 22 - 3:29
Total Ascent: 986ft
Average Heart Rate: 137bpm
Max Heart Rate: 160bpm

Day 9 Morning Progress Maps

Day 9 Afternoon

Shortly after lunch we passed over the border into Cheshire, I was very close to home now. It felt strange to be in a county that I hear about on my local news reports. It seemed a bit surreal. The west country had taken what seemed like an age but just a few days after leaving Bristol I was making great progress up the country.

Nice gaff like.

Me being a tit outside a pretty little cottage.

Whilst still on the A49 we passed a town called Tiverton, Nick recognised the name from the Tiverton we had passed in Devon. He asked me why people would call two separate towns the same name. History geek Gotts came out and told him it was pretty unlikely the people that settled in both areas had ever visited the other area when the towns were founded and that the name probably means something in a language older than English. I told him that the 'ton' bit meant town so whatever the start of the word meant probably described something that was in both locations. I could tell from the look on his face that I'd just completely confused him. I was waiting for it, I knew without doubt the response was going to be ridiculous.
"A language older than English, in England? So they didn't speak English here?"
"Oh god! Nick you do know it hasn't actually been called England for that long don't you?"
"What!!!!!!??????"
I tried to explain that we weren't really a country until Alfred the Great and before then England was broken up into smaller kingdoms but before the Romans a lot of the counties we have now were little kingdoms that were really just big clans. Nick was just smiling and nodding, much like I do when Ed talks about space to me. I find it interesting but I don't take it in because I don't understand it. Anyhow, I gave up trying to teach Nick history because whilst confusing him more and more we'd been directed by Ed and Ant onto the B5152 a tiny country lane. It cut across country towards Frodsham. It would save us a lot of time compared to sticking to the main roads.

Ant Pointing us in the right direction

Cross roads in Cheshire

We were getting the odd glimpse of Warrington in the distance. Warrington is only a 40min drive from home so it gave me even more of the surreal 'home' feeling. Almost like I had nearly finished but as I said earlier I wasn't even half way yet. Unfortunately Cheshire lived up to its reputation for attracting people who think they are a cut above the rest. We hadn't had a single donation and very few people had waved or cheered us on. What Cheshire had provided us with is tons of arsehole drivers in ridiculously big and expensive cars driving in an aggressive way. I think Nick's middle finger was probably getting sore from all the use it was getting. We weren't in a different position on the road than we had been on the previous 8 days, the road was no narrower than any we'd already passed, we were acting in exactly the same way we had for the hundreds of miles so far. The only thing that was different was the drivers, we were being blasted with horns and we had people driving way too close to try and scare us. It was such a huge contrast to the day before and the people of Shropshire.
 Ed had found us a campsite for the night, another freebie, that's 9 free pitches in a row. This one was in The Delamere Forest. Right on the same road I was pushing along. When we got to the campsite I spoke to the lads and said I was feeling good, my ribs had eased slightly so I wanted to do a few more miles as I didn't know how I would feel in the morning. The lads agreed to make an effort in the morning to get up on time so we could accommodate the extra time we would need to travel from the campsite to the start. I ended up pushing another 6.5 miles, I thought any further would make the drive in the morning too far. Plus at that point we had reached a pub called The Traveller's Rest, it seemed the right place to end the day. I was reasonably happy with 43.5 miles for the day. 10 more miles than the original plan that my ex club thought was too far for me to manage.

Seemed an appropriate place to stop.

Dave from The 53 Foundation had asked Ed to get a short video interview of me each day for facebook. This was our first day doing the video and I'm really not good with being filmed, I even struggle with being photographed. It took about five attempts for me to stop laughing. On the take before the one we used Ed had asked me where I'd been that day and I answered with
"absolutely no idea mate"
My brain wasn't switched on, I had genuinely forgotten where I had been so Ed had to remind me of the towns and then start recording asking me where I had been before I forgot again! I stumbled through the interview and then we made our way to the campsite.

Delamere Forest Camping and Caravan site was one of the very few with disabled facilities and I was really glad of them. It was nice to have a proper shower seat and not have to sit on the floor. After my shower I rang Mother Hubbard to tell her how far north we'd got, she wasn't best pleased because she had booked a day off to come and support me through Lancashire but I was likely to be in Cumbria on that day now. I reminded her that I was trying to set a world record - I wasn't just on a jolly and told her just to come and see me after work instead. Showered, fed and told off I got in bed very early again, I was hoping for a better sleep so I would wake up in a better mood the next day. I couldn't sit up because of my ribs anyway so I didn't really have any option other than going to bed.

Day 9 Afternoon Stats

Miles: 16.79
Time: 1:37:17
Average Moving Speed: 10.4mph
Top Speed: 36.2mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 8 - 12:08
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 9 - 2:29
Total Ascent: 854ft
Average Heart Rate: 143bpm
Max Heart Rate: 163bpm

Day 9 Afternoon Progress Maps

Total Daily Mileage: 43.53

Review of 2015 - Massive Highs and Bottomless Lows.

Well 2015 was a funny old year!

 I started out well with that 5min PB in the London Marathon and then went on to prepare for the Great Manchester 10K. It's a race I love because it is the closest to home that I have ever raced and I've always found it a shame that it doesn't attract a bigger field. 2015 was different a few coincidences made it the biggest wheelchair field the race had ever had, there were new athletes involved, people who would normally be at the Swiss champs were there and a couple of racers came out of retirement. All that meant that there was no way I was going to defend my 3rd place from 2014 so it was all about the time for me.
  As soon as the gun went there was the mad charge that seems to happen in every race although it is heightened at Manchester as there are two start lines that are on opposite sides of the road and the athletes cannot see each other. We set off harder because we don't want to be left behind by the athletes on the other side of the road. After about 80m the two groups come together on a gentle bend, there was a clash of chairs at this point in 2014 and with the extra athletes involved in 2015 it was no different. I took a big hit from Mark Telford (the guy I argued with mid race during the London Marathon) I think I swore at him but didn't think much of it at the time and just got on with my race. The first 1km or so is downhill so we get some decent speed going, the lead two were off and gone in the distance but they were David Weir and Simon Lawson who are a cut above the rest of the athletes in the UK. I would have expected the likes of Patrick Monahan, John Smith, Nathan Maguire and Stuart Bloor to be ahead of the likes of myself and Callum Hall but they weren't! When the mad dash at the start had settled we had got involved in a huge group with a few of the other athletes that don't normally race at Manchester, the group was a bit ragged at first but myself and Callum soon got them in order and working together. We were both laughing to ourselves, both knowing that really we weren't the most experienced or the fastest in that group - we were just the gobby ones that took control. We didn't half shift, most people doing their bit at the front of the field, John was a bit lazy and did virtually nothing but in the end he was out sprinted by somebody we could have dropped earlier in the race if he'd of helped us out - swift justice!
  Whilst heading towards Old Trafford we could still see Dave and Simon ahead so we knew we were going well. Just after Old Trafford there are some corners on the course and I realised that without putting any effort in I was hitting the front of the pack just because my cornering was better. I decided that when we got to the worst corner on the race I would hit it hard and try and break up the pack as I knew most of them could outsprint me and that would leave me outside the top ten. So, I sprinted into the corner, didn't break and then worked out of the corner. I had a quick look over my shoulder and I had dropped the whole pack by 20m or more, everybody in that pack had a faster 10km PB than me so I fully expected most if not all of them to catch me. I was just over halfway in the race, I knew I couldn't keep a group of faster athletes behind me whilst they were working together. I didn't make a break for home, I simply kept myself moving at a decent speed so the pack would need to work to get back to me. I hoped that as they were chasing me down the weaker members of the pack would drop off the back and once the leaders in the pack caught me I would be fresh enough to up the pace again and open up the gap between us and the weaker athletes. It worked! Exactly what I wanted to happen did so! I was a bit gutted that one of the athletes dropped was Callum who I get on great with, he was having a great push none the less. Another was Stuart who I had only ever beaten at Half and Marathon up until that point. Unfortunately, with about 2km or less to go, as the course started to climb a small gap opened up in the group of six I was racing in and it was me getting dropped. I kept working hard hoping that somebody else may be dropped and that I may get to pick them off but the five remaining lads kept strong and finished well. When I crossed the line I couldn't believe the time I had produced 24:04! Well over 2min Knocked off my 10km PB! Yes, it wasn't the 3rd place I got in 2014 but 8th in a fast time feels better to me. The post race analysis consisted mainly of people asking what had happened at the start between me and Mark Telford, apparently it looked like we were both going to come out of our chairs. Two people asked if it was round 2 of the London Marathon ranting. It wasn't, Mark had been rammed into me  by an inexperienced athlete when the two starts merged. There was no malice in it at all and we had a good chat about the accident and about London. He is actually a sound guy. We both apologised for shouting in London and shook hands.
  After manchester I set my sights fully on the Swiss Marathon Champs, My club the Weir Archer Academy sponsored myself, Martyna Snopek and Justin Levene's travel and board. It felt great to be representing the club abroad I wanted to produce something that people would be proud of. I trained really hard for the event and felt in the best shape I have ever been in. The trip started with a long drive down to London to sleep on Martyna's sofa the night before we flew from Luton airport. On the morning we were flying we headed over to the airport and parked up, I didn't have a disabled parking bay so had to park miles from the airport and push my race chair in its flight box, two wheel bags and a suitcase across a gravel carpark and then catch the bus to the airport. I didn't half get some funny looks! Once inside the airport we tried to check in and because we were flying with EasyJet the inevitable happened - we were dealt with by idiots! When booking the tickets we had let them know we were flying with wheelchairs and sports chairs, they were given the dimensions and weights of the chairs and my travel box. I had over estimated the weight of my box and told them 36kg, on the day it weighed 32kg but they wouldn't let me check it in as it was over 30kg! They let me book tickets stating I would be travelling with a 36kg box telling me there would be no problem and they would put a note on the system... but a box 4kg lighter was "too heavy"! I explained that there should be a note on their system from when we booked and the manager who had been called over said she could see the note but the box was still over 30kg so it didn't matter. Well over an hour of arguing ended with somebody else higher up the hierarchy letting me check in. It did sour the start of the trip, being made to wait at the side of the queue whilst passengers stared at us and EasyJet staff pointed at, talked about us and asked ridiculous questions like "does it have an engine?". Once checked in we literally had minutes to get to the gate and sort ourselves out. The flight was ok, I had Martyna hanging off my arm as she is petrified of flying! I don't like flying either so I couldn't do anything other than completely blank her! We must of looked like a really odd pair, her clamped onto my arm and me with head phones on watching a film an not even looking at her. What makes it even stranger is that Martyna is doing a masters in Avionics! She knows how safe planes are and knows exactly how they work yet she is petrified, haha!
  Once landed in Switzerland the problems continued, EasyJet had left Justin's race chair behind so whilst he was sorting out what was going on we stacked all 6 wheels, Martyna's race chair and all 3 suitcases on my travel box and I wheeled it through the airport whilst Martyna went to find the race organisers who were supposed to be picking us up. There was no sign of them. They eventually got there an hour and a half after we had made it through arrivals. Once checked into the hotel that was lovely we headed down into the town to try and find some cheaper food, the food in the hotel was very expensive but even the Aldi store in the town was a bit pricey. Whilst going through the town Martyna noticed my wheelchair looked odd, we stopped to look and it had been completely battered during the EasyJet flight all the wheels were buckled and the frame twisted. On our way back to the hotel up a very steep hill both of my castors broke so I had to pull a wheelie whilst carrying my shopping. Justin and Martyna just abandoned me, it must have taken me a good half hour to get up the hill. When I was about 1 minute away from the top Martyna wheeled back to me to offer to take my shopping bag, it took everything I had not to blow up at them both - there is noway on earth I would ever leave a friend to struggle like that.... actually I wouldn't even leave a stranger to struggle. Never mind, they live in the south so I guess thats normal!
 On race day we were bussed down to the start in the next town, it was raining heavily and very cold so we got ready in a large marquee, when we went out to warm up they were already lining us up in speed order with all the cyclists taking part in the various races. I managed to get about 400m warm up done then I had to take my place in the startling line up. We were sat getting cold for quite a while although the rain had stopped. Once it was time for us to start I was flying, I was drafting both the Great Marcel Hug who is a multiple World Champion and a Dutch Paralympian. I felt fine, my heart rate was within my target zone, I even climbed a small hill with the pair. Then at about the 7mile mark I couldn't exhale properly my chest went very tight and my breathing was very shallow, it came from nowhere. Justin was about 200m behind me at this point and I was in 3rd place which came with prize money which was much needed at the time. As soon as it happened I lost touch with my illustrious company but I hoped I could hide it from Justin and not give him the boost of seeing I was struggling. I carried on pushing, with the prettiest technique I could manage, whilst gasping for air. It wasn't working though, Justin soon caught me and passed me - I couldn't even hang on to him on a downhill section where normally I could hang on to anyone. I kept working for another 7 miles or so but by this point I was starting to fall asleep, it must have been lack of oxygen getting to my brain, whatever was causing it - I was scared to death. I had been struggling to breath and getting pains in my chest for 40min or so, I was starting to be lapped by the cyclists in their various races and as they were coming past at incredible speeds it started to get dangerous. If it was a case of just me limping on and finishing in a jogger's time I probably would have attempted it and who knows what would have happened. I was putting other people at risk by wandering all over the road so I pulled out, the first time I have ever pulled out of a race like that and I was devastated. I felt like I had let Jenny, Dave and everybody else at the academy down. I had wasted their money in getting me there.
  It turned out I had had an asthma attack in the race, probably brought on by the lack of warm up and the cold mountain air. I had childhood asthma but hadn't had an attack since the age of 15, I had't used an inhaler since 17 and didn't even own one. I thought I had grown out of it, I had a severe cat allergy as a child too but I have two pet cats now and they have never caused a problem in the 9 years  I have had them. My dad developed asthma in his late 20's so I guess thats where it has come from. It didn't take long once home to get the diagnosis, get an inhaler and try pushing again. The inhaler helped with the asthma but there was a bigger problem for me - the feeling of letting everybody down and the wasting of months of training brought my depression back with a huge bang. It completely bitch slapped me and I really struggled to motivate myself to do anything at all for weeks on end. I shied away from friends and family, I didn't get much training done, neglected my garden (which means a lot to me) and didn't look after myself properly. I've suffered from depression for a long time but normally it is kept under control and only rears its head in winter. To get hit in the summer so hard was really nasty.
It was a few months before I plucked up the courage to race again, I avoided the track at all costs over the summer, I came back on the Tyne Tunnel 2K - the fastest wheelchair race in the world. Haha! Only I could have months off then decide the fastest race in the world followed by the Great North Run less than 48 hours later was a good idea! I think the Tyne Tunnel 2k race is amazing and didn't want to miss it. I drove up to Newcastle and checked in to The Hilton and found out I was sharing with Mark Telford - luckily we had chatted after the Great Manchester Run and sorted things out. The Tyne Tunnel 2k takes place on the Friday evening and runs 1 kilometre downhill into the tunnel where we reach speeds of 45mph then we have a gruelling push uphill kilometre to climb out of the tunnel. I got to the hotel early and the nerves started to build as I was waiting for the time to pass before heading to the tunnel. For some silly reason I decided to swap my push rims for some newly covered ones I had with me. Newly covered rims have nice tread on them but them haven't built up a sticky layer of cluster to help with grip. As soon as the gun went I was stuck behind a slow starter but when he got going I couldn't keep with him because my gloves wouldn't stick to the rims. It took me a long time to get up to speed but as you can see in the video I was flying by the time I got to the bottom and overtook lots of faster athletes. Climbing wasn't good, my gloves slipped, you can hear them slipping in the video and I lost a lot of places. Getting beaten by my mate Jamie Carter was hard to take but he pushed really well and I didn't so he deserved it! I'll get him back next time I race it!

I always knew the Great North Run was going to be difficult for me with no real training for it, it's not my favourite course on the best of years. I had swapped back to my old rims, I had a decent warm up and waited on the start line for the gun to go. I had a storming start, next to Callum Hall and just off the lead pack. The first 2 and a bit miles are mainly downhill but even on the slight climbs I was holding my own. Then when we got to the long dragging climb that takes you past Gateshead Stadium I lost the big group I was in. I am just too heavy with my legs to stick with the other lads. I tried and tried to close the gap but they were working in a group and I was in no-man's land. I had patches working with each of the three lead women but all three of them were stronger than me on the climbs and I was faster on the decent so it was more like bunny hopping than actually pushing together! I finished fairly strongly to say I pushed most of the race alone and for the first time ever I enjoyed the GNR. My time was less than a minute behind where I had been in 2014 and with about half the training I was happy with that. The best thing about the GNR is that after the race they ship us back to the hotel and we all get a meal in the Hilton laid on for us. Myself and Martyna made full use of it, She had what looked like half a cow as a stake and I had swordfish. All with lots of post race analysis.
  The next target on my radar was the October edition of the Lisbon Half Marathon, a race that I love to support as I consider the organisers friends now. I trained really hard for this race after the confidence boost that the GNR had give me. My friend John Lloyd who owns a race organising company called Cannonball Events was due to travel with me and take part in the running event. I was looking forward to this so much, John's been really good to me and put on a few races that I could take part in when other local organisers don't want the hassle of a wheelchair athlete. I had lots to do in the lead up to the race and hadn't had time to pack until the night before the flight. It was my own fault, I should have said no to people asking me to do things for them but I didn't , I just kept saying yes. I packed my kit, broke down my race chair and stored it safely in its travel box. Then went to get my passport from the safe place it has been kept in for years... it wasn't there. I spent a few hours looking for it and couldn't find it. I phoned my mum for help at about 11PM, I was due to set off at 6:30AM to the airport. We spent another 5 hours looking, we looked everywhere, we emptied each room then put everything back. We even checked in each dvd case. Nothing. I think my cleaner might have binned it with some junk mail. So, at 6:30AM after about 40min sleep I drove John to the airport on his own. I had the same feelings that I had let people down again and it took a good few weeks to get over it.
 The year ended with me just getting back on track when another disaster happened. I had been trying to decide if I was in shape to do the Dubai Marathon in January, at first it was a no but two key sessions had swayed my mind. During my 3rd good session in a row I decided I was going to go for it in Dubai, I knew I would finish in the prize money and I have always wanted to visit Dubai. My school mate lives out there and I had received an invite from the organisers so it seemed perfect. My session went so well I decided to add an extra rep, whilst on the 3rd lap of my extra rep I was took out by a runner. He had been running in lane 2 for the previous hour and as I had been at the track for over an hour and a half he had seen me using lane 1 plenty of times. Going down the home straight, just as my front wheel drew level with him he changed lanes as if to run on to the infield. As my front wheel was already along side him when he changed directions there was nowhere for me to go and no time to do anything to avoid hitting him. My back right wheel ran over him, this sent me up on two wheels. I was tipping sideways, I put my left hand out to save myself but my arm ended up twisted behind my back. My shoulder had bee dislocated. Luckily there were a group of runners near the incident and they helped me up, it was also lucky they witnessed the accident as the runner involved wasn't a very nice person. He didn't apologise or even ask if I was ok, instead he just said "I didn't hear you!". What type of excuse is that? You wouldn't cross a road using sound alone, so why cross a track  without looking? Since the accident I have had a bit of a lynching from his club mates, abuse on Facebook, letters to my sponsors, the sports centre I train at and to my club. All from people that didn't actually see it happen. This is the club that I used to represent, I have seen them turn on people before and it isn't pretty. It would have upset me if the other runners that helped me up hadn't witnessed it and said it was his fault, I even had strangers contact me after to see if I was ok.

My poorly shoulder :(

  When you have a serious injury to your shoulder as a wheelchair user you are basically a prisoner on your sofa, you can't use a wheelchair to get around, crawling is much harder and even with some use of the legs like me you can't use crutches. Being immobile over xmas and pissed off that you can't race in a race you've had your eye on for over a year isn't good. Comfort eating and copious amounts of alcohol ensued! Read the next blog to find out the result.

Phew! Glad 2015 is over. It sounds odd to wish away a year where you produced huge PB's but I can say 100% 2016 will be better for me!

Resurrecting The Blog With A Report On London Marathon 2015

So... there are many reasons that I did not keep the blog up to speed last year but, as you will see in a a few posts time, I have a huge challenge in 2016 and I will make a big effort to blog at least once a week from now onwards! 2016 is going to be an exciting but tough year for me and it will be nice to share that journey with you all on this blog.

Back to 2015, I stopped posting on the day of the London Marathon and I can't remember why as I had a great race. I think a bit of a run down on the race would be a good place to start so here goes:

  London Marathon is a great event but it is the people of London that make it the best race in the world not the organisers, as I said back in April we had a hard time of it at the race briefing with officials being over zealous with the gaffer tape and over protective of the race numbers. If only they were so efficient on race day morning, for the second year running all staff disappeared when it came to getting all the athletes on the bus. It's standard practice at other races, like the Great Run series, for the staff to help us on the bus one at a time and then wheel the day chair off to put in a van. At London as soon as this job needs doing the staff disappear and there is no van for the day chairs so we have to wheel onto the bus and then transfer onto a seat and then my dad carries all the chairs to the back of the bus. My dad has two fractured vertebrae so the fact that the paid staff all vanish really angers me. Anyhow, my sister, Ugly and her boyfriend arrived just in time to catch the bus to the start with the athletes - it was great to see her there as she had never seen me in a proper race before.

Myself and the old man, Nigel Gotts, just before I start my warm up. 

Myself with Ugly and her boyfriend.

    Once at the start and unloaded we are finally reunited with our race chairs that had been took off us at the race brief. We spend time pumping tyres and checking all the bolts etc are tight and then we have to say goodbye to family and get out on the road to warm up. The warm up area is a stretch of road around 300m long. This year the race was doubling up as the World Championship Marathon so the field was much bigger than normal with 77 wheelchair athletes and quite a few amputee runners and blind runners. I'm not sure having everyone warm up on the same stretch of road was the wisest plan but fortunately there were no crashes.
  On the start line you could see there were some really nervous faces, including mine! I will probably never get to compete in a world championship race again and although I knew full well that I wouldn't be anywhere near the leaders I still wanted to do something that I could be proud of. The organisers weren't helping the nerves by playing the sound of a heartbeat as we sat on the start line! I quite like to be nervous before a race as it seems to help my performance so I quite liked it! Once the gun went there was an epic sprint, I found myself just a fraction behind the leading group but I couldn't quite get on the back and draft them so I soon tired and got overtook by a few friends including Callum Hall who tried to let me draft him but he soon dropped me. About a mile in to the race I was starting to feel better and caught a nice group which included my club mates Justin Levene and John Smith. I drafted them for a short while to allow my arms to recover before I did my stint at the front of the group. Only that didn't happen - we got to a corner and Justin slowed right down to 4mph to take it! Haha! I rammed him good'n'proper! not on purpose but because I had no idea anyone would break for such an easy corner. The group splintered into individuals and pairs at this point which is a real shame. Somewhere in the next 3 miles I passed Callum again but I completely missed him, I only found out I had beaten him when I finished. I felt bad because he had let me draft - I would always do the same for him but this time I didn't offer because I just didn't see him.
  My dad, our Ugly and her fella were at the 10km mark and seeing them gave me a real boost, I love that part of the course because there are lots of bands playing and large crowds around the Cutty Sark. I got in a bit of a battle with Mark Telford at this point and after a few miles of him drafting me I let my frustration overflow and told him to "Do some bloody Work". Each time I told him to do some work I felt that he was going to the front and slowing the pace so I would take over again. We ended up having a bit of a barney mid race. oops. I pushed with Shelly Woods for quite a while but she crashed at the point we have to mount the curb and not long after she ended up with a puncture and pulled out. I Saw my family again at around this point which was another huge boost as I was starting to hurt.

A great photo taken by Shane Delport during the London Marathon, check out his other work on Facebook using the link on the links page. 

  The rest of the race was a solo push which was incredibly tough mentally but I kept on giving it everything I could. I was trying to do sums in my head about my finishing time but the fatigue made it difficult. I really hate the last 2 miles at London, even though the crowds are huge I just can't seem to lift my game along the embankment. I missed my family at this point but they saw me, I did hear the Weir Archer crew all shout me on as I turned  on to Birdcage Walk. it was only at this point I realised I was on for a huge PB. I went from 1:59:51 to 1:54:59 so very nearly 5 min faster! I was pretty chuffed to finish inside the top 30 in a World Championship event, even more chuffed when I got a bit of prize money for finishing high up in the British rankings. It wasn't much but it's nice to get a bit of recognition.

My race stats for London Marathon 2015.

After the post race analysis with all the athletes, friends and family we were bussed back to the hotel, myself and my dad got showered and changed and headed out to get a pint and a giant pancake! I'd earned it! I really enjoyed the pint and giant pancake but started to feel rough very quickly so we headed back to the hotel.

Post race pint and pancake!

I had a nap at the hotel and woke up to find my arms had stuck to the bedsheets, I had taken a very thin layer of skin off my bicep area on both arms and thought nothing of it. It's fairly normal to lose a bit of skin on the arms in wheelchair athletics and these wounds hadn't even bled. When I woke up after my nap just a few hours after the race there was a thick green puss coming from the wounds, it turns out it was a nasty infection i had picked up from my tyres rubbing on the wounds during the race. I had to spend two weeks on antibiotics and have my dressings changed everyday for 10 days at my local Health Centre. This is probably why I felt so rough after just one pint. That said, I wouldn't mind feeling like that after every marathon as long as I whacked out a 5 min PB each time!

My smelly wound!

London Marathon Build Up 2015

When I returned from Lisbon I was met with the welcome news my new chair had arrived from Japan, not a minute too soon as I have been struggling with my old chair. My old chair had been braking in most races and was costing me a bomb in welding services! My new chair was ordered and measured up by the British company Draft, they built my old chairs but have started to get a reputation for delaying chairs heavily. The lads at draft are great and I like their chairs but I needed a new chair as fast as posible so I decided to get them to order me one from OX in Japan.
  As soon as I went to draft to pick my chair up I knew I was going to like it. It looks brilliant and when I tested it out in the car park it felt amazing! I had just 15 days to get used to my new chair before the London. My first few pushes were promising, I was slower climbing but I was much faster on the flats and downhills. I needed to find the right positing for me to sit in to get the most power out of each push. My new chair is a solid kneeler which means I kneel on a solid metal plate, my old chair was a soft kneeler where you kneel in a sling. The solid kneelers are much more efficient because they flex less each time you push, more of the force is transfered through the wheels and into the ground producing faster speeds.  The problem I have is that I can still feel my legs, I had been told by coaches, that pretend they know more than they do, that I would never be able to kneel at all let alone in a solid kneeler. After being told that I had always thought I was pushing my luck by getting a soft kneeler. Now I have a solid kneeler I know those coaches were talking out of their backsides! The solid kneeler is much more comfortable and I'm glad I picked it.
The last 9 days before London wasn't great as I had three punctures to deal with. I ended up going out pushing on the dodgy front tyre I'd had to change before the Lisbon Half, it was fine on the first push but the second time I used it I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting a learner bus driver who had thrown the anchor out when he saw a car on the opposite side of the road. Where do they find these people? Anyway, within 3 miles my tyre had punctured. Miles from home, with no spare and no phone. I saw two women stood chatting whilst having their cars cleaned so I went and asked to borrow their phone the only problem was I could remember my mum's home number and no others, she wasn't in. Bloody great. So I started pushing home but the roads in Rossendale are awful and I was scared I was going to do some real damage to my wheel. Front wheels cost around £700 so you can see why I was worried! After 4 miles I decided to pop in to the local cycle shop Ride On, these lads are always really helpful when I pop in for bits and pieces. They were soon crowded round my chair debating if they could fix it and how to attempt it. The tyre had completely had it, there was a patch without any rubber left on it and this is where it had blown so when the lads tried forcing the anti puncture solution into the tyre it ran straight back out. They tried a couple more ways to repair it but it was having none of it so the situation called for drastic measures. Out came the gaffer tape, they wrapped it round tight and put some more solution in to the tyre. They then managed to get about 40 psi in the tyre which was enough to protect the wheel from Rossendale's nasty road surface. I headed home gently trying not to rip the tape. I got to about 200m from home and had to use my brake which ripped the tape off and gave me a face full of gunk! I returned to ride on the next day with a box of chocolates for the lads as a thank you.
  The next few days were an anxious wait for the delivery of my new tyres, I didn't have any spares so I had to train on my handcycle instead of in my chair. They turned up the day before I travelled down to London for the marathon. Talk about a close shave! That day was spent changing tyres, packing my bag and getting a massage on my back. The mother came to get Bonnie my dog as she was dog sitting for me. Then I tried to sleep but I was too excited/nervous so I barely slept at all. Me and dad set off for London early on the Friday, I wanted to get checked in and then travel across London to the Marathon exhibition.
   The runners have to attend the exhibition to collect their race numbers but the wheelchairs do not  need to go, I just like to as it reminds me of when I used t o go and watch dad race. It gets me in the mind frame to race in one of the biggest events in the world. At the exhibition you get plenty of freebies and good deals on new kit and nutritional supplements,  you also get info on other races around the world. I got a few good ideas for events, watch this space! We ended up going for a Singaporean meal then crashed out early, knackered from travelling and shopping at the exhibition.
  On Saturday we went to the Victoria and Albert museum, true to form as soon as we entered the building I had a drama. My bloody caster flew off my chair, I think I must have damaged it on my way to the museum. I was lucky not to have been thrown out of my chair into some priceless sculpture but I was unlucky in the fact I couldn't see the bolt that holds the wheel on anywhere. I got out of my chair and started to look, dad was on his hands and knees and soon he was joined by several other, middle aged folk crawling along the floor looking for my missing bolt. I must have been a lovely shade of red, talk about embarrassing!  Eventually the museum staff radioed the maintenance man and he found some spare bolts and washers to temporarily fix my chair. We then got on with our museum visit. My sister, ugly to you and me, and her boyfriend arrived in London and met up with us at the museum.  There are some brilliant sights in the V&A it's a shame we wasted an hour and a half sorting my caster out! 

Me sat in the V&A whilst everyone looked for my bolt!

  That evening we had the technical meeting, I hate the London Marathon technical meetings, we are split up from the best guys. Our hotel is a complete shit hole and we are charged £150 a night which doesn't even include breakfast or wifi. As well as getting an awful hotel we get officials that don't have a clue. This year's antics at the technical meeting included some poison dwarf threatening to disqualify me for folding the number which was to be taped to the side of the main shaft of my chair. For some ridiculous reason they give us numbers the same size as the ones the runners wear on their vests, they have grown to around 9 inches high nowadays as they have become advertising boards for the race sponsors logo. The main shaft of my chair is 3 inches high. How the fuck did the poison dwarf expect me to tape a 9 inch high number to a 3 inch high part of my chair without folding it? Any sensible race organisers would provide an extra, small sticky number like the ones we use on our helmet so we can stick that on the chair, simple, problem solved!
  When I told the poison dwarf that we never have these problems at races like the Lisbon Half marathon she anounced that was because "They didn't know what they were doing!" She then proudly introduced some doddering old git as a member of the international paralympic committee technical delegation. I couldn't be arsed arguing with them so I just got on with what I was doing, about 5 min later my dad asked "is that safe?" and pointed at the poison dwarf and the doddering old git who were covering John Smith's front wheel in gaffer tape. They were trying to cover the wheel manufacturer's name and logo up. I pointed out that the technical delegate and the woman who thinks the Lisbon organisers 'don't know what they are doing' should really know better about sticking gaffer tape around the front wheel. They didn't have a clue what I was talking about until I pointed out that if John pressed his break the tape was going to get wrapped around it and cause a crash. The poison dwarf then protested that he'd not be allowed to race with the wheel unless the advertising was covered with tape. "Do you have shares in gaffer tape? Why can't he just peel the manufacturer's sticker off like the rest of us do?" Was my answer to her. Absolutely unbelievable,  this is supposed to be our country's premier road race and they can't even find officials who could run a successful school sports day. After the usual battles with the officials they did their little safety speech which was identical to last year. We found out the buses left at 6:30 am for the start and with that Ugly left for her hotel as her and her boyfriend would have to leave their hotel at 5:30 am to reach me in time to travel to the start with me.
  The rest of us were fed and I was amazed that the food was much better than last year, it was only lasagne but it was good. Pudding was a really rich chocolate tart, John didn't like it, Martyna wasn't keen but if they had have offered I would have eaten theirs as well as my own. We had a good laugh around the table particularly when I'd been asking if anybody had a spare washer for my dodgy caster and Martyna, who's English is normally better than mine, asked "what's a washer? Do you mean a sponge?" Haha! I can't really take the piss because I can't speak a word of Polish. We all arranged to wake each other up if we didn't arrive for breakfast in the morning and then headed off to bed.