On the run: Wipe out

Annie Hayes, HRZone.co.uk's very own contributing editor and self-confessed reluctant runner, is bravely taking part in the London Marathon this year and she is charting her training regime here in this blog. This week, she wipes out and is scraped off the streets of south London by a man and his trolley bag.

Like a piece of meat, I lay splattered on a dark side road in north Battersea, separated from my water bottle and my self esteem. A nice gentlemen pushing a trolley bag stopped to ask if I was ok. Fighting back my tears and, remembering that my sixteen-month-old can even control the temptation to let the water ducts flow (well from time to time) I bravely told him I would be ok.

It was a loose bit of paving stone that made me lose my footing, either that or my two left feet. As I examined the damage – an impressive bruise and shaving of my skin on the left arm and a swollen middle finger on the right hand - all that was going through my head was that annoying ad: "Where there's blame there’s a claim".

The possiblity of suing Wandsworth Council and scooping a five-figure deal, or maybe four (well probably three) was leaping around my head – oh the pain, the agony, surely someone should pay? The helpful man reunited me with my water bottle and told me "not to give up" and I resigned myself to the truth – actually I really couldn't be bothered to sue the council, I don't even have the patience to wait on the helpline, let alone march down the all guns blazing route.

What was I thinking? I picked myself up and limped home. Now there is a reason why I run without my phone and my Oyster card, or any money – it's the incentive that there really is no other way to get home bar run, that gets you round – this was a time when I regretted that strategy; I really could have done with some kind soul picking me off the Battersea floor and saving me from my own humiliation.

A glass of wine does wonders for your sanity and injuries and after a session with the Pinot Grigio I felt much better and the sore finger, although not fully flexible, appeared to be much improved as was the self respect and the loathing of the council. I had to face up to it – it was time to go where I hadn't been before – an 18-miler.

It was 8.30am on Sunday morning before I summoned the strength to leave the comforts of the warm, cosy flat and one abandoned attempt, when I had to come home to fetch a rain coat – my husband's far too big, bright yellow cycling jacket and off I set. The rain was pouring, the wind was howling and I was a lone soldier on the roads of London – everyone else was far more sensible and had decided to stay under the duvet.

Two and a half hours in and I was feeling rather good, if the truth be told, and I gave myself little pats on the back (not physically you understand - Paul McKenna would be proud) at each completed part of the course. With the extra two miles on top of my normal 16-miler it took me three hours and 10 minutes – happy with that. And you have never seen such a cold and wet looking runner.

I throughly enjoyed my warm bath when I got home, but my Sunday rest was interrupted with my very sickly son George, who proceeded to vomit over everything and everyone – poor wee soul - for the rest of the day. A visit to A&E later, in which I cheekily asked the doctor if he wouldn't mind checking whether I had broken my finger (I hadn't - well we were there anyway), and I'd forgotten all about how sore and exhausted I was – sometimes it's good to put the Marathon in perspective.

Annie is running the Flora London Marathon on 13 April in aid of Heart UK. You can sponsor her at www.justgiving.com/annabellehayes

Marathon blog archive:

HR Zone, 25-Mar-2008
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