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

Lands End To John O'Groats Day 7 - The Flying Cripple Situation.

Day 7 Morning

After the excitement of going public on Day 6 of the challenge I had been adding up the figures for how far I had travelled in total and how high I had climbed too. Before Day 6's total was added it was somewhere around 225 miles and 18,000ft of climbing. I was happy with that but I now had two bust ribs to deal with. Whilst adding up the mileage something had dawned on me and it had me worried all night. Nick was only supposed to be cycling for two weeks as that is all the time he could take off work with such short notice. The original plan was to have Nick show his brother Mike the routines when he joined us on day 14, Nick would then carry on with us until the Scottish border around day 16 or 17. A combination of Mike's work and his dragon, sorry I mean wife, meant that he couldn't take part due to the date change but that wasn't what was worrying me. Nick had set his heart on cycling the entire length of England but we now had two or three less days than planned, there was no way around it, Nick had to leave on day 14 or he would risk losing his job.
  Nick wasn't only cycling to help me out, he was doing the challenge in memory of his son, Charlie. Charlie had come in to the world too early and despite putting up a big fight he sadly passed away. Without going in to too much detail I think it is fair to say that Nick had struggled to cope with the loss of his little man after just a few precious days. Nick wasn't much more than a kid himself when it happened so it must have been absolute hell for him. He had been trying really hard to sort his life out and had made big changes to his lifestyle, not least moving from London to Rossendale to be closer to his brother. I knew how important it was to Nick to get to the border, I knew I needed to do whatever I could to get him there in 14 days!
It was another wet morning but at least we'd left the hilly west country behind us. It felt nice to be heading north instead of heading east like I had been doing for the first 6 days. I had totally underestimated just how long the west country is. I was in front of schedule but I didn't feel much closer to Scotland as I was still down the bottom end of England. We got on with the morning routine and set off to Berkeley Heath where I would be starting my push. Ledbury was 30 miles away so I thought on a wet day and in pain with my ribs that would be a good target or maybe 5 miles further down the road.

Damp Day 7

  Oddly, after being in heaps of pain all night and not even being able to sit at the breakfast table without being in tons of pain, once in my race chair I felt much more comfortable. Myself and Nick got on our way and once Ed was happy that I was ok pushing and not going to need him or Ant they shot off to get some shopping and fuel. I got myself settled into a nice rhythm, pushing along at a speed not too far behind my race pace. The roads were flat so despite the rain I was doing well. It wasn't long before we crossed the River Severn (which I excepted to be more impressive) and we could see Gloucester Cathedral in the distance. When checking the route the previous night Ed and I had been unsure if we should head through the city streets or use the ring road which would be shorter and faster but more dangerous. Ed was going to scout the start of the ring road out on his shopping trip and let me know what he thought when he got back. Unfortunately Nick and I had been following the road numbers we needed and completely missed the junction where we'd have to choose between ring road and city centre. We found ourselves already on a busy ring road. We pulled in to the first layby to phone Ed and Ant to see where they were, they were on the road further down towards Bristol looking for us. They told Nick not to use the ring road as it was too busy but it was too late we were on it! They turned around and headed back towards us but we made the decision not to wait for them as we were getting very wet and cold. I was pushing hell for leather, faster than my race pace, trying to get us off this bloody dual carriageway. There wasn't a hard shoulder, just a 2ft wide bit of tarmac beyond the white line. Nick could get his bike into that thin strip but I could only get one wheel in the space. I was trying to keep my front wheel in the tiny gap between the rumble strip and the cats-eyes but this was really hard work at speed and in the wet. Each time my front wheel hit a cats-eye it squirted water all over me. After 5 or 6 times of getting a face full of filthy water I tried getting my front wheel the other side of the rumble strip but that meant every so often my back wheel hitting a cats-eye and squirting Nick. Each time I heard him shout I giggled to myself, partly nervous laughter as I thought I was about to be run over but mainly just the thought of Nick getting a face full of dirty road juice.

Nick being Nick

Once off the ring road we found a layby for Nick to phone the lads, we had 8 missed calls from them but there had been nowhere for us to stop safely on the ring road. Apparently they had been up and down the ring road 3 times looking for us and had thought we'd got lost or taken a different route as they hadn't spotted us. They weren't far away so it only took them a couple of minutes to find us in the layby. Ant put the kettle on, you know me, any excuse for a cup of tea! A near death experience was definitely a good opportunity for a brew. Nick and I told Ed and Ant all about the ring road like a pair of school boys telling their mates what they'd been up to on the summer holidays. Brews drunk and stories told we were on our way again.

Back out on the country roads

There was quite a climb away from Gloucester, my arms were tired from racing to get off the ring road, my ribs were sore and it was wet so maybe it seemed a little tougher than it should have done. The climb was followed by a steep descent which I was really enjoying until I saw brake lights in front. I tried hard to stop but wet gloves and brakes did nothing to slow me. I was headed straight for the back of a car when I spotted a left turn onto a residential road running almost parallel to the main road a bit like a layby with houses on it. I took the turn to give me more time to stop. A split second after I turned I hit a speedbump and took off, all three wheels in the air. "fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"  Obviously when you have no wheels on the ground braking is impossible. I landed with a thud. just metres away from the next speedbump where I got air time again "shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!".  Luckily I just about managed to get control as the road met the main road again and the row of cars that were sat waiting at the lights. I wonder what they were thinking seeing a lad in his wheelchair flying through the air, twice. Then Nick caught up, came to a stop with a skid and gave me a right bollocking! He sounded just like my dad! The lights changed and I set off tentatively, not sure if I had damaged the chair, the wheels or even myself. Everything seemed ok and it wasn't long before Nick was laughing at the flying cripple situation. Threatening to get me a cape and playing the song One Call Away on his phone singing "superman's got nothing on you" at the top of his voice.
Before we knew it we were in the Malvern Hills and just a few miles from Ledbury, I didn't feel tired at all so I pushed to Ledbury where we stopped for lunch. Almost 31 miles! When I got out of the chair my ribs started hurting like mad again. I found sitting at the table for lunch too painful so I ended up eating whilst laid on my bed. During lunch we had to cancel the campsite we'd found near Ledbury as it was going to be too far away from the finish point now.



Day 7 Morning Stats

Miles: 30.87
Time: 2:50:43
Average Moving Speed: 10.8mph
Top Speed: 33.7mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 28 - 9:21
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 4 - 3:42
Total Ascent: 1358ft
Average Heart Rate: 144bpm
Max Heart Rate: 169bpm

Day 7 Morning Progress Maps

Day 7 Afternoon

Back in my chair after lunch I felt comfortable again I found it really odd how being in the position that had bust my ribs was the only position I was comfortable in! We were now in our next county, Herefordshire, the weather had brightened up and the scenery was the stereotypical English countryside, lots of green fields, ancient hedgerows and rolling hills. The houses we passed were amazing too. This was a posh neighbourhood. Lovely place.

English countryside.

Still damp

We started to see signs for Hampton Court Castle which confused me for a while as Hampton Court is in London not far from where my now ex club trains. Eventually my tired brain clicked that Henry VIII's gaff was Hampton Court Palace not Hampton Court Castle that we were about to pass. As we got to the gate house I could see Ed and Ant poised on the opposite side of the road, ready to take photos of us with the gatehouse in the background. It took everything I had to fight the history geek inside me. The history geek wanted to turn and look at the castle but there was no chance I was going to stop and pose for a picture or go back and do a rerun for a staged picture. I kept looking forward and didn't get to see the castle at all. I am so glad I made that choice because Ed captured my favourite photo of the entire trip, Nick and I going fairly fast, the gatehouse and through the gate up to the castle. This is another of the places I want to go back to - if only to see it with my own eyes!

Hampton Court Castle, my favourite photo of the challenge.

 I kept a fairly steady pace through all the rolling hills and I managed an enormous total of 50.2 miles for the day. Partly this was because of my growing confidence that I was going to get to John O'Groats but mainly this was the start of me trying to get a head of schedule to get Nick to Scotland in memory of Charlie.

Our new campsite for day 7, another freebie, was called Nicholson Farm and it was a fully working farm. As soon as we headed down the lane and into the farmyard I was excited about the stay. Ed went in to find out where to hook up and the farmer had given him a firm warning not to damage his grass. I love farms and I love country people. The place was absolutely stunning, there were cows everywhere and the farm dogs just wondering around. They came to say hello to Bonnie and they all had a run around the field together. I was desperate for a shower, they were housed in an old outhouse for the farm, possibly an old pig pen. They weren't the cleanest but I didn't care, I loved the place. The showers were full of spiders and I was grinning to myself thinking that Nick and Ant were going to struggle as they are both soft arses when it comes to spiders. Right as I was lent against the wall showering and dodging spiders the bloody light went out and as there were no windows it was pitch black. There I was, naked, fumbling about looking for the door lock so I could go out and turn the light back on. I secretly hoped the same would happen to Ant and Nick!

Back at the motorhome Ed was talking to the owner of the only other caravan on the site. An old man from Oldham, he had come on holiday with his wife and two dogs but sadly one had taken ill and needed to be put down. He had been due to go home a few days earlier but he wouldn't leave without his dog's ashes. It was such a sad thing to hear, I don't know where I would be without Bonnie!
After we ate the lads went exploring the paths around the farm and down to a lake, they come back thinking they'd been to the wild west because the cows had followed them. Ed found it highly amusing that he'd found another animal that Ant was petrified of!

The Nicholson's cows!

In the evening we were treated to the loudest bird song I've heard for years; Ed managed to get a short video:

Day 7 Afternoon Stats

Miles: 19.34
Time: 1:57:59
Average Moving Speed: 9.9mph
Top Speed: 23.9mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 3 - 8:46
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 7 - 3:26
Total Ascent: 856ft
Average Heart Rate: 143bpm
Max Heart Rate: 163bpm

Day 7 Afternoon Progress Maps

Total Daily Mileage: 50.21 (17 miles beyond the target)

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.