A Paralympic Summer
I know I’m at risk of sounding just a little bit strange (although I hope to you guys I sound normal!), but one of the first things I think about when I know I’m going away with work or on holiday is “what’s the running like?”
We all have our daily routines back home, but what happens when we’re away overnight or overseas? I tend to stick with the habit, pack as much running stuff as I can fit in my bag (which generally tends to be the majority of space I have available), and off I trot, literally, to roads, hills, trails, canals or whatever awaits me at the other end of the journey!
And so that’s what I did as I left my home in mid-August for a month of Paralympic Games activity; first up the preparation camp in Portugal followed by just over a fortnight in London, living in the Athletes’ Village and working out my temporary office base in the Olympic Stadium!
Portugal was a breeze. I’d been before, the routes were tried and tested and I had slightly more time on my hands than I was soon to experience in the midst of the Games-time chaos. I was up around 6.30am every morning for 45 minutes to an hour, and due to the slightly more hardcore habits of the marathon-training doctor, tended to venture out for a second time in the early evening just prior to dinner.
All was well (with the exception of the intense humidity in the first few days) and feeling quite smug, I found myself laughing when one of the physiotherapists got lost one morning. “How can you be stupid enough to get lost out here,” I said. For goodness sake; our hotel has the sea on one side and a motorway on the other - not close enough to be a nuisance, but close enough to be a landmark as it runs parallel to the coast.
But yes, as you probably predicted, I suffered for my hostile outburst at her poor sense of direction, and on the day of my departure, a Sunday - which of course meant long Sunday run - I did indeed do a long Sunday run. Two hours in fact, as I chased aimlessly down country roads to find the sea and a notable landmark to send me in the right direction home. Arguably lost runs are the best, there’s no way I’d have run two hours deliberately, but I strode back into the hotel grounds as if it had all been part of the plan. Keep that one to yourself.
I have to admit, it’s hard being at an athletics training camp when you’re a committed runner yourself, not least because you want to believe you’re also there to train and you’re not, you’re there to work. With that in mind, my alarm is always set for early morning so I don’t interrupt the working day. The other tough part is watching athletes train. We actually don’t have too many endurance athletes on the Paralympic team, but we have a couple of good quality middle distance runners and a sprinter who has a 2:42 marathon to his name, so no lack of talent to team up with if they need company on the lonely miles.
Things become easier mentally when a training camp ends and the competition begins. Athletes are tapering ready to peak at the right moment, staff are working over-time which in turn limits running opportunities and makes decisions for you. However, in my view at least, if you don’t get out early you don’t get out at all and that precious time slot around 5.30am/6.00am is suddenly all the more precious. As my old club coach once said to me (actually, he definitely said it more than once in response to my various moans and excuses): “there are two 5.30s in every day.”And it’s true. What surprises me is that so many people don’t make the most of it.
Once the Paralympic Games started I’m convinced my 6am runs kept me sane. It was the only time of the day where I could guarantee that being away from my phone didn’t result in a multitude of missed calls, voicemails and email demands. I loved it.
I had been a little apprehensive of course; I’d never run in East London before and had to depend on an old friend and resident of Hackney to provide me with a few running route options, and I’m so glad I asked. Day one, prior to said chat, I found myself running aimlessly up and down various busy streets, day two, and every day thereafter, I ran through the brilliant Hackney Marshes, alongside the river and canal, into Victoria Park and back along the canal to the Village.
I don’t know what I’d have done without my running during that Games-time period. Some nights (mornings really), we’d finish in the “wee small hours” but I always set my alarm to get up, I knew that as long as I could win the personal battle of “will I just stay in bed?” I’d benefit from it, enjoy it, and get set myself up for a positive start to the day.
So a couple of lessons learned (or just re-emphasised) and tips to share:
Always take your running kit; it doesn’t matter where you are, there are always options to get out and get active. Of course, if you’re worried about safety and don’t want to venture out alone, there are of course structured options to get involved with such as parkrun which is growing exponentially across the world!
There are two 6 o’ clocks in every day!
You might not be buzzing when your alarm goes off, but I promise you will when you get back!
Katy