This weekend’s original plan had me running the Weald Challenge Trail Half Marathon while David ran the Ultra at the same event and the children did something yet to be determined with someone yet to volunteer to look after them.
If you don’t know them, the Weald Challenge Trail races are really great; only in their second year but well organised over a lovely route and fairly local for me. I did the Half last year (there’s a Marathon and 50k Ultra too) and thoroughly enjoyed it so was looking forward to doing it again with some of my Paris Plodder friends (the group of women I did the marathon with), relying on our training for that to get us comfortably to the end.
But then I got an email inviting my daughter to take part in the Westminster Mile for the second year. She’d done it last year and loved it, when it was on the same weekend as the Weald Challenge, but not the same day. Being the less than perfect mother that I am, I completely ignored the email and hoped she wouldn’t notice.
Guilt, and particularly maternal guilt, has a way of eating away at you; your own mental dripping tap. And mine did its work on me until eventually I came clean and let her know that the Westminster Mile was coming up but she didn’t really, really want to do it, did she? Well, yes, of course, she did. The excited face beamed at me and there was instantly talk of how big the medal would be this year and whether she might go “Sub 8”. (8:11 last year).
So I made the ultimate sacrifice. Well perhaps not ultimate, as I was able to defer my place to the new High Weald Challenge (sister race of the Weald Challenge) coming up in September which I’m sure will be just as good and is even more local. I’m just not going to be able to rely on spring marathon training to get me round it!
For those of you who consider there should be equality in marriage and are wondering why David didn’t give up his planned race to take her, I have to confess, I wondered that too. But this is a race in which he came third last year and I think he was secretly hoping for another plate to match this one.
Plus he seems more oblivious to the excited little face than I am.
So this morning, with the 2015 Mother of the Year Award safely in the bag, I waved David off for his race and set about preparing the nine year old for hers. I say waved. Not literally, obviously. I was still lying in bed.
Just to clarify, we are not pushy parents. Our children are still at ages where they believe all we do is cool and they want to emulate it. We encourage them, of course, but if they wanted to take up medieval jousting reenactment as a hobby instead of running, then we’d encourage them to do that too. Although the kit is harder to come by in Decathlon.
Some lovely friends of ours had agreed to look after our son, who’s too young for the Westminster Mile this year, so he trotted off happily with his Nerf gun while his sister and I headed for the train.
The Westminster Mile organisation is pretty slick, and Green Park was well kitted out with plenty of pretty clean Portaloos, a picnic area and a few things to do while you wait for your “wave”. We had a slight confusion about whether the U11 and U13 kids were to be escorted to the start from the drop-off point like last year (they weren’t) which left us rushing a bit to get her to the start.
It’s at this point that you have to give your first born a kiss (and an orange Smartie from her brother) and let her go. In London. With people you don’t know. Gulp. I joined a few other mildly trembling mums on the other side of the barrier to watch our girls be corralled to the start line.
I take a few pictures, wave, blow kisses, make heart signs and otherwise generally embarrass her and myself, then head off across the park to be by the “100m to go” sign.
I’m there in time to see the last U11/U13 boys finish and then watch the start of the girls’ race on the big screen nearby. Amongst the 4-5 foot tall girls in various shades of pink with very high swishy ponytails is none other than a 6ft something Steve Cram in canary yellow! I’m so excited to see my girl on the big screen running just behind his left elbow that I let out a little yelp and the people around me give me those sympathetic smiles.
“Which one’s your daughter?” I can’t answer. She’s made me promise not to cry. Which frankly is ridiculous as I’ve already cried at least five times before this. Fortunately it’s quite sunny and I can wear my sunglasses.
And then before I know it the lead runners have gone past (the winner completing her mile in 5:37 – wow!) and then there’s the Yarrow Arrow and then there’s my girl, race face on, arms pumping, finish line in her sights. I just about see her through my slightly blurry eyes as she crosses the line under a clock that says 7:47.
Another small yelp escapes and a kindly chap moves his Boris Bike aside so I can head for the repatriation zone at the finish. I elbow my way through hoards of people who seem to be out for a pleasant stroll amid the sights of London. Lovely to share our capital with them, but just get the heck out of my way will you, I have a daughter to find!
Eventually I reach the big “U11 Girls” sign and scoop her up into my arms for another moist-eyed moment, although as my face is buried in her neck no one sees this one. Officially her time was 7:48, 23 seconds quicker than last year and the Sub-8 she had hoped for. She has a huge medal (currently under her pillow) with a picture of Steve Cram on the back, who I now know high fived her at the start. His 30 year old British mile record of 3:46:32 still stands.
News from David is that he’s improved on his 2014 Weald Challenge Ultra time but alas not made the top three, so I’m relieved not to have to find room for another plate on my gin shelf.
So we head for home, settle in for dinner, and the boy and I try not to sulk that we don’t have medals to show for our heroic selflessness and Nerf battle prowess.
Would I have liked to do the Weald Challenge Half this weekend? You bet I would! But would I have missed seeing my daughter achieve a running ambition and meeting a British running hero? Not on your life!
SarahinRTW 