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Paris Marathon
Why do it
I actually can't believe I am writing a blog about my first marathon, mainly because I can't actually believe I have completed one - 42.2km is a long way. I have always wanted to run a marathon, in fact my plan was to do it when I turned 18 and run the London marathon, however I realize I sometimes take a while to get round to some of my plans and 15 yrs later I made it to this one.
I only got started with the marathon when a friend of mine (juicy lucy) said she was doing the Paris marathon with her friend and I should join. I decided this was a challenge I needed, for my new sporting life as a Personal Trainer but also as a big two fingers to the endometriosis I found I had- I decided I was not going to let it stop me doing anything in life, so, I entered the marathon, I was planning to be in Europe for a year so training should be easy, but as it goes, my plans always seem to take twists and turns. I ended up in Sittwe in Myanmar instead, a small contrast in climate and geographic location, where the majority of my training was to take place. One may not chose Sittwe as the ideal location for training for a marathon but it has left me with some of my best memories of this place.
Let me tell you a bit about Sittwe, having gone through a conflict between two ethnicities with an element of religious segregation, the atmosphere in the town can be a little tense, it is a coastal port town with ankle breaking pot holed roads and wild rampant rabie eyed dogs, crazy tuk tuks and drivers that rarely check their mirrors or expect to stop for anything let alone a lowly runner (you just don't get many of them here - definitely outnumbered by the dogs). On top of all these minor challenges for a runner it is a particularly conservative town (i.e. no inappropriate running attire - didn't stop me with my bright colours and full lycra - just baggy mignon t-shirts for acceptance J).
The training
Foreigners running are a mixed bag for the locals, some do not know what to make of you, as you run by they stare in wonderment or at least just stare, sometimes they don't expect to see you run by , as they through out their dirty water, you have to be fast to dodge it, other times I wonder if they are maybe aiming for you a bit but that could be the paranoia that can play with your mind after a few months in Sittwe. Others shout "hey you" as you go by - which I have later discovered may actually mean "idiot". However, running mainly along the same route each day I formed a strange solidarity with the people I saw each day. It took some time to break them into saying hello but by the end of four months training we were best of friends.
First I should explain my morning run during the week was along the view point road early in the morning - lots of locals walk there very early for their morning exercise. The viewpoint road runs along the sea with a view of the sun rising over the islands - it ends in the viewpoint bar or a run along the beach, has spectacular views of sunrise and of very strange exercise practices, knee bending, feet flicking, windmill arms and even once a loud roar from a very small women - let it all out!
I'll introduce you to some of my friends who helped me train!
Runner friend number 1 - Thumbs up man, every day this guy was out walking along the view point road next to the sea. Every time I saw him he would thrust his two thumbs in the air and grin wildly at me. I found myself each day seeking him out and doing exactly the same back. It did become a bit weird as I would often see him twice on the run and have to stick my thumbs in the air every time, sometimes holding the thumbs up for slightly too long. To my surprise I bumped into "thumbs up man" in town under different circumstances and attire, I recognized him by guess what - two thumbs thrust in the air! Finally on one of my longer runs off route and in the depths of Sittwe, running through markets, chickens and old toothless women, I spoke with "thumbs up man". He on a motorbike offered me a lift as he thought I was lost - then we discovered he was Chinese, in my excitement I exclaimed Nee how - I never saw thumbs up man so happy!
Runner friend number 2 - "Morning man", this guy was awesome and took some time to break. He was surprisingly tall for a Burmese man and wore the best leopard print cowboy hats while sporting a range of equally mind blowing track suits. I was going to make this kindred spirit say morning to me. So each day I started saying hello. Eventually one day I was about to say hello when my leopard hat wearing friend shouted "Morning" with the best voice I have heard, I can only describe him as the Manuel (Faulty Towers) of Sittwe,in voice only, as there was no messing with this guy the way he marched towards you.
Runner friends 3-72 "the possy" - The possy were scary, it was a group of guys, some of whom walked their daily walk along viewpoint road swinging golf clubs. They took up the full road, marching towards me, the lone runner -terrifying - however I finally made some of them smile and say hello, mainly the ones at the back who could get away with communicating with the weird running lady.
Runner friend 73 - the old lady who raced me. This women was incredible, she must have been in her 60's, wearing a longyi and flip flops, one day as I ran past her I heard a patter of feet, she was running with me, so I speeded up, we were literally sprinting along for a good 100m. I had to stop and congratulate this women on her speed and stamina, particularly in flip flops and longyi. We shook hands in mutual respect and smiled and laughed, me more out of breath than her - she inspired me to train harder and faster - thank you crazy old lady.
Runner friend 74-102 - "police boys". On many occasions on my view point run I saw a group of Sittwe youth boys wearing police t-shirts. There was a navy base at the top of the road so I assumed they were out training for that. One day I realized I was catching up with their group, with this little realization it sparked some competitive monster within me, I was going to catch them up, but by stealth, I needed to give myself a chance. So slowly but surely I quietly caught up with them, I picked off a few of the ones that were trailing, quietly kicking them to the side in my mind. As I moved up the group there were mutterings within the ranks, a few head turns and the pace suddenly picked up - they were off, they were not going to be beaten by a girl, gone was the lazy run and stopping for a quick smoke half way, this became serious, faces were turning red, mainly mine as I tried to keep up. Ok so I never got the boys at the front, but I had my victory as they stopped at the end of the road out of breath, as I ran on past them, I may have wanted to stop but my pride kept me going, my purple face may have given the game away. If nothing else, they got a better workout and I learnt how to push myself, runs became faster and more challenging from that point onward.
Runner friend the ultimate runner - she deserves no number as she became my partner in crime and I wouldn't have done half the runs I did without her, Rebecca Balis - joined me in Sittwe as part of the child protection team and came out running with me on every run, and all the mega long ones. On many occasions we silently challenged each other with the pace getting faster and faster, neither of us really knowing who was pushing who but neither of us would ever give in, no matter how slow or tired. Another lesson learned in training and mental will power - with her we reinvented the fartleck training, sprinting between lamp posts, adding in strength training, grabbing our rocks at the side of the road and lunging in the sun rise at the view point - much to the navy base security guards delight. Thanks madame Balis.
Runner friend number 103 - needs a mention just for the sheer cheek he had, which I loved as it was the same as mine. He wore an amazing blue outfit with matching sweat band, shiny basketball shorts and t-shirt, and the next day he had the same in yellow. We only realized his presence when I thought we were going to be attacked from behind when we heard a "pat pat, pat pat,pat pat" coming fast from behind us. We had no clue what it was at first, but as 'jackie chan" pulled up beside us I realized we were being raced! We were being tested. So we let him pass us. As myself and Becca by this point were clear on our mental telepathy and our silent nature of "we will not be beaten", we sped up after "jackie chan" giving him a sight head start. This was the toughest but most worthwhile run of my training. We battled against this guy - he was fast, we literally sprinted down the view point. He got to RV by the sea before us and thought we would stop there, he was shocked to see us continue on down past the jetty to head to our home. To our surprise we heard "pat pat, pat pat". Incredible this guy was not finished with us and was going to follow us all the way home, the race was on again. We literally sprinted the remaining 1.5km to the house. We all made it at roughly the same time. None of us having spoken the whole journey, neither mentioning we were racing each other, all congratulated each other at the end. Runners solidarity, there was nothing to say, we were all winners, had all pushed each other and all made it. Another milestone in training toward the marathon.
My last key Runner friend is trishaw man - he was not on the viewpoint but on one of my last long runs - maybe 30km. I was nearing the end of the run and by this point the sun was beating down on me, I was heading back into town about to run through some market space, preparing myself for the business, suddenly a trishaw cyclist appeared beside me. I thought he wanted to pass me so I kept to the side, but he did not go past - he was pacing me, then he started cheering me, telling me sport was good for the health. He chatted to me a bit then continued to pace me. Man, this was hard, he had wheels I had two slabs of meat that were not wanting to move anymore and a mouth as dry as a camels toe struggling to talk back, but I had to keep pace, if I had learnt anything from before then it was this. But I was to learn something new - we kept going and ran into a traffic jam, cars, tuk tuks all packed in zig zags trying to get around each other but stuck in a stand still. My friend the trishaw driver, ordered me to stop as there was no way by - I'm not stopping I thought and weaved my way through the traffic, much to the delight of the market people who had seen my exchange with the trishaw driver and gave a thunderous cheer as I ran on - lesson learned don't stop!
So now I had learnt some of what I needed to know for the marathon - ready for Paris
In Paris
So prep for marathon done - time to get to Paris! the days running up to it I did a couple of runs in Belleville, gorgeous there, such nice parks, however they so don't know runners etiquette, so many people just wondering in my way, not leaving space, it brought out my madness and internal rage a bit but that gave me the strength to power up the hills. I also planned to finish one of my runs along the canal so I could go to Bob's juice bar,I bought a weird green drink that was not so nice but also a freshly pressed carrot and beetroot juice, it was amazing, of course I was on a roll so bought a gazillion muffins, of course this was part of the week before marathon diet - I can send this on request. The 20 euro to pay for it was a bit of a shock given I was so used to Sittwe market prices but hey ho, I feasted and was happy. Carbing up the day before was a challenge as I was struggling to eat (many of you understand why so no need for me to write it), however I forced down a huge lasagne followed by my favourite tiramisu desert :), we ate at a little french bistro place at my mum and dads hotel who had the most enthusiastic waiter who loved us as we were named Shearer his favourite footballer. He gave us free cakes and even some huge slices of desert for my mum and dad when they left, like a packed lunch for their journey, so cute.
Marathon day
My playlist was ready, my lycra was on! Morning of race, up early, museli and yogurt done! met my mum and dad at the tube and this is where the fun began seeing all the runners starting to pile on at every stop - we had lot of stops to get through so it became a little scary and way worse than london, I was squashed in the tube in a very strange position and started to get cramps in my legs before I even got to the start line - geeez. I was next to a hilarious typical french dude (also going to run) who started to tell us "zis iz a nightmare, zis iz only the first nightmare, after zis we must run the race" - so optimistically French, but he was wrong the marathon was not a nightmare.
The first little miracle of the day was trying to find a toilet before the race began. The portaloos with the backdrop of the arc de triomphe were surrounded by masses of people - not a chance of starting the race on time if I queued for them. So I spotted the trusty MacDonalds, on entering there was a mass of people in shorts and running shoes, bet MacDonalds has never seen so much health and fitness enter its doors. Again the toilet queue was immense, until I realized it was all men- oh la la, for the first time in my life I saw no queue for the ladies toilet, I skipped past the men grinning like I already won the marathon and my victory to pee quickly and without having to hop one foot to the other crossing my legs, small victories but note to ladies, run the Paris marathon we are outnumbered 4 to 1 J. On leaving the toilets someone must have sensed my sense of victory and asked me if I would be the winner of the Paris marathon, bien sur mon amis! - ok this was all in French so perhaps I heard what I wanted to hear but it's all about PMA.
Start line, so exciting - so many people and the warm up routine was hilarious, some pumped frenchy on a platform swinging his arms mainly to flex his muscles at us - reminded me a little of the Sittwe viewpoint road in the morning, windmill arms but perhaps not so many muscles!. A group of older gentleman next to me started to speak to me to check I was not stressed, although I myself was not so stressed, the smell of other stressed peoples farts was incredible so maybe he thought it was me. I put my headphones on and started to focus on the race ahead, with the sudden realization that I was actually going to have to do this, all I could think was my dad's wise words to me, start slow do not be pulled by the crowd, but rationalizing it, I thought, do it as quick as possible I don't want to be out here all day! And then slowly but surely we were off. So weird at the beginning jumping over everyones clothes that they had just dumped. The road was wide and I actually had plenty of room. I could feel my nerves and realized I was checking my watch every 2 seconds to make sure I was not going too fast but I just wanted to run. So I started to take in the sights, Les Invalides, the shops, the Louvre, my old gym J , to distract myself, it working until mile 3 when an unwanted distraction appeared, who should it be but the older French man from the start line, I swear he was hitting on me as he skipped along like a gazelle beside me "hello, remember me" god, I thought this is going to be annoying if it lasts the whole race, and how do I get rid of him without messing up my race, Jackie chan has arrived too early, however we were separated and I continued on my merry way without having to race anyone.
The race was good, but water stops were places of survival of the fitest, it was vicious, like hunger games! I managed to have the elbows out and fight my way through them - I survived by becoming one of them and becoming vicious or just dehydrated as actually I was too scared - mum and dad would be there with my special solution at mile 18 so I chose not have to deal with this. Nerves had past and now I never felt so good running, seeing people from all different nationalities and taking in my surroundings. As I ran past the Bastile for the first time, I saw my parents, they did not see me, oh this was not going to be good for seeing them later in the race. I entered the first park, Bois de Vincennes, on entering the park I wondered why suddenly all the runners scattered to the sides, thinking it was some sort of marathon protocol I nearly followed, but quickly realized that everyone was just squatting and peeing at the side of the road in the bushes, it was like a mass evacuation of the marathon. Clearly I was better prepared, did no one else see the gel she pee balls at the pre running exhibition (ok I did not buy them but could have been useful for some). On the way back, I passed the Bastille again, there were mum and dad- this time they had their eyes open and I got some cheering from some people that actually knew me, very motivating. Next meeting point Eiffel tower for my juice at 18miles also known to some as "the Wall" - no this is not some Game of Thrones reference but actually the point where many runners feel they can't go on and it becomes a battle of the wills. For me there was no wall, I felt fine and happy, until I realized I could not see my parents, I had no water, I felt my throat start to close over in the panic, but was rescued by the bucket men - seeing my panic ridden eyes they threw me a tiny bottle of water that got me through until the next water station - where I had to become vicious- it was scary but it was survival.
Some of the best bits of the marathon were disco's in the tunnels, spotting the Eiffel Tower and Notre dame, accidently burping in the face of another runner (it was uncontrollable but I did apologise) and the barefoot runner with no shoes whatsoever who claimed on her t-shirt simplicity was the key, however looking at the rest of her she had every other hi-tech gadget and top end running gear known to man, head band gamin and all, however the craziest moment was when the rocky training montage came on my ipod, I thought I could run like the wind, I became overenthusiastically energized, it was amazing, I was at 35km and was going to kill that last 7km - this would be my school girl error of the race, I heard people shouting my name"bravo Lindsay, super" which only encouraged me more, who were they, who knows, how did they know my name, mum? Dad? No no, my name is on my bib. As I sped up - a sensation of sickness came over me, dear god I was going to vom!!!! My internal voice of reason kicked in "slow lindsay slow, do not vom you will be ashamed of yourself and will have to suffer the smell for another 7km" so I slowed down.
The last few miles were insane, for me ,my body was just so slow and really it is just in autopilot from this point onwards, my brain was just wishing the race to be over, should I put the Rocky montage on again or just the legoman theme tune - lego man won. Looking around me I knew there were many who were worse off, it amazed me the amount of people slowing down, walking, stopping, being taken away in ambulances, they don't tell you this about marathons! Many of these people looked super fit as well - just shows you that you never know what is happening in your body or how you will deal with the impact of the race, I am so thankful I finished. However in the Bois de Bologne, an area I knew, I found some motivation to keep going! The cheering of some barely dressed lady boys spurred me on a little further as they cheered us from within the runners, in their gold shiny shorts and high heels, it made me chuckle and forgot I was so tired.
So nearly at the end, the crowds were getting bigger you could sense you were nearly there but it was like some sick joke, a banner for 26miles, for me a sign it was over, but it was not! Then a sign for 42km, it is over this time - no! another 0.2 of a KM - this is when I really learnt a bit more about me, I saw the finish line, my legs starting moving faster, I was sprinting and SMILING, I knew I had done it. I crossed the line the way I wanted to - still breathing haha. I admit as I crossed the line I had a tear in my eye for what had been achieved.
People close to me know that I nearly did not run the marathon from a couple of days before, but I had a second wind and remember all the training in Sittwe, all the memories of the people who had been part of that and the build up to it. I was never not going to let anything stop me running it after that, and the final test of that came just before the race, but thank goodness it did not stop me, even my endometriosis tried to get in on the act, but I am so glad I ran the marathon in Paris. It was an amazing day and an amazing experience of emotions and will power.
The end was like carnage, I think the main feeling I felt was relief not to run anymore, when I looked round and there were so many people looking like pale, limping to the side to get massages or slowly attempt to sit down. It was what I would imagine a war scene to be like, people sitting down in the their green windbreakers, pale, tired and sweaty, but not all, I heard the voice of an Irish girl, already on the phone to her parents, excited and astounded at her time. I decided to make a sharp exit and find the parentals and food! I did try and sit down and realized it was not a good idea - I kept walking and found my folks. A surprise visit from AG made the end all the sweeter. I felt great but also like part of a club as I looked down the Champs Elysees to see the green windbreakers of the marathon finishers dotted around and medals round their neck.
So the after marathon food frenzie, I had been dreaming of this! I tucked into the oranges and tuck biscuits, then started on the french fries, then came mission " find a nutella crepe" mmmmm - paradise. Then of course it was time for champers, after all that I could barely eat the pasta at night time, i was just too tired! But club marathon appeared at dinner as well, at the table next to us was a French man who had run the marathon 11 times, he knew I had run the marathon as I was still in my clothes - yes disgusting I know, but he let it slide and we chatted about the marathon as we were both in the same club now.
Last bit of learning and advice - Having remained in my running gear from the marathon, I discovered why marathon runners discuss chaffing so much. Never sit in a sweaty bra and pants walking around Paris after a marathon you will be brutally scared with chaffing all round your b*m, on your back and around your b**bs. Luckily no bleeding nips.
Post marathon I was convinced I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted, in big portions too, and as a fatty as possible, cheese, bread, wine wine wine, chocolate, ice cream…….. It was amazing even after the marathon.
What an incredible emotional experience! Thanks to all for their support - in the early days my bro for the runs in the dell, Lucy for the inspiration, Jane and Sus cos you got there before me (we were meant to do it together) Becca for being my Shaun T partner in crime, all the girls in Sittwe for listening to me talk about it all the time and putting up with sober Lindsay, my mum and particularly my Dad who was the inspiration from the beginning when he ran the Dundee marathon - thanks Mr Universe!
- comments
Jaq Well done Buddy, you are an amazing woman and I am so very, very proud of you. Love you lots xx
Hadondi.A wow, i love it! quite inspiring...despite the difficulties, you made it Lindsay. You are a star.