After completing marathon number three I was feeling pretty happy with myself. My next run was only a week away, but with a good rest and some stretching I felt confident I would get through it.…however I didn’t factor in the bad prawn in the Pad Thai!
On the way home from Bhutan we transited at Bangkok airport for a few hours. I am a big fan of Pad Thai and where better to have it than Thailand! When in Rome right…
So I sipped my celebratory champagne, and munched on my Pad Thai thinking life was pretty good. However, not long after I finished my meal I started to feel a little strange, that’s the only way I can describe it. David asked me if I wanted another drink and I asked for water. He was horrified and preceded to get me another champagne! We were travelling with a few friends and I didn’t want to make a fuss so I accepted the champagne but there was no way I could drink it. (That’s when I knew I wasn’t well!).
As we headed to the gate, I started feeling really sick and began to dread the flight ahead. If any of you have ever been sick on a plane you will understand what I am talking about. There is nothing worse than being desperate to get to the toilet (which you are sharing with a cabin full of people) and the drinks trolley is in your aisle!!
Needless to say the next 3 hours were no fun at all and when the plane finally landed at Hong Kong airport I was so relieved I almost cried. As a rule Hong Kong airport is super efficient and we usually get through customs and have our bags in about 15 minutes. Naturally tonight of all nights was when the airport decided to let us down! While we waited for our bags I sat with my head between my knees, willing my stomach to behave for a little longer. We watched all the bags come out and go around and around, except ours! With a few choice words David set of to investigate and eventually found our bags, which had been taken off the carousel and been put on the ground on the opposite side to where we were waiting. We finally made it home and I crawled into bed breathing a sigh of relief. It was heaven to be in my own room and know I had a toilet close by that I didn’t have to share with anyone.
By Wednesday I was beginning to feel better and by Thursday I had started eating properly again. My focus now was on making sure I could fuel my body adequately before the run on Saturday. I had entered the Translantau as a team with my friend Alex, so pulling out wasn’t really an option; it would be my last resort.
Saturday morning I packed my Camelpack with food and water for the race, the packet of Imodium within easy reach for peace of mind. I was feeling good, but wasn’t about to take any chances!
David and I left the house together but as I headed to the ferry that would take me to the race start, he took another ferry to the golf course. I was feeling a little sad he wouldn’t be doing this run with me, but also knew it would be good for him to have a well deserved weekend off. I thought he might have been a little remorseful too, but as he threw his golf clubs over his shoulder and raced towards the ferry without a backward glance, the huge grin on his face told me otherwise!
I know I say this quite often, but the human body is an amazing machine. I set off for the 50km trail run without adequate preparation under my belt, and 8hr and 58 minutes later I finished and felt great. There were a few times on the course that I struggled, but having Alex beside me to spur me on helped enormously. The checkpoints along the course supplied oranges, bananas and fresh white bread jam sandwiches. I normally only eat the fruit as I take my own snacks, but lack of food during the week meant I was feeling really hungry the entire race. At the second checkpoint I grabbed a jam sandwich and was instantly in raptures, you would have thought I was eating a Michelin star meal the way I reacted. It went down so well I grabbed a few more and I’m sure they contributed to me getting across the line.
Almost 9 hours after we started Alex and I crossed the finish line grinning from ear to ear and high fiving whoever was close enough to share our excitement. Having a running partner to encourage you and share the experience with makes a big difference, especially in a run of that length. I would encourage anyone starting an exercise program to think about setting a goal with a friend and working towards it together. You will keep each other accountable and most importantly have someone to celebrate with when you achieve your goal.
I always knew the Translantau 50 was going to be the hardest race out of the five for me as it fell only a week after my last run. A few days of sickness leading up to it added to the difficulty factor. I was incredibly happy (euphoric) to have this one done and only one more run left to go.
Next stop Paris and marathon number five
