I had just turned 30, started a new job and the weight was beginning to pile on. The scales were approaching the 18-stone mark and I was veering dangerously close to couch potato territory. My friends were beginning to couple up, get married and have babies, yet I was coasting. I decided I needed a holiday and, crucially, to start looking after myself. Then, an epiphany! Why not kill two birds with one stone? I went in hard and began searching for marathons in European cities I’d never visited. Was I an experienced marathon runner? Absolutely not, but with hope, determination and plenty of ignorance, I thought, “Why not?”
I signed up for the Caen marathon in France (rather grandly called Le Marathon de la Liberté). I had always wanted to visit the rugged coastlines and towering medieval castles of Normandy — and to get my fill of le fromage. Being on the bigger side, I knew it would be a tough race and I was dreading its infamous hills.
Training began. I stopped pumping iron at the gym and started running after work. Short, slow, fast, long, I tried my best each weekend to improve my time — but also my physical and mental health.
I kept on training, through the cold, the rain and after draining weeks. Even at low ebbs, I’d lace up and get out
I documented the journey with posts on Instagram and very slowly — but surely — the weight began dropping off: from 18 stone to 15 stone. I have always struggled with my weight and couldn’t believe the results I was seeing. I kept on training, through the cold, the rain and after draining weeks at work. Even at low ebbs, I’d lace up and get out, for a short run at least.
A race of two halves
Off to France I went. I made a pal on the Eurostar who was also taking part in the race. “Just enjoy it,” he said. “The hard part, the training, is over.” Buoyed, I picked up some Camembert and a baguette and settled into my hotel. The next few days were for sightseeing. Caen castle! L’Abbaye-aux-Hommes! Le Musée de Normandie!
I felt like my plan was coming together.
Race day arrived and while I was giddy with excitement, the nerves were just as bad. The race began on the coast, at Courseulles-sur-Mer, and I felt relatively good for the first 24km but then the panic kicked in as my energy levels grew depleted and cramp raised its cruel head. A brutal second half was filled with walking, jogging and agonising pain.
I crossed the line in four hours and 50 minutes and I was totally gutted.
Heading back to London, I was disappointed but motivated. Next time, I would do better. I’d prepare rigorously, research thoroughly and run a sub-four-hour race. This time I headed to Rome. Pizza, pasta and cannoli, what’s not to love?
You fail to plan, you plan to fail, I told myself, and this time failure was not an option. I locked in with a running schedule, tracked my eating habits — this time turning down the Jaffa cakes and crisps at work — and ramped up the weekly mileage. I felt invigorated.
Seeing Rome for the first time was everything I’d hoped for. The Colosseum, Trevi fountain, Spanish Steps and the city’s breathtaking basilicas were on the list for the first days. Visiting the expo to pick up my bib was a joyous moment; it was like a mini festival filled with people from all walks of life and an atmosphere I’ll never forget.
Race day rolled around. Feeling stronger but no less nervous as I walked to the starting line at the Colosseum, I was surrounded by 36,000 runners speaking a multitude of languages, all of us sharing a common goal: savouring the beauty of Rome.
Redemption in Rome
The first 20km felt like a breeze and I locked in with an Italian runner at the 23km mark. He gestured to his watch, mouthing “3.50” and after that we stayed together for the rest of the race. He would lead, then I would lead, both pushing each other until the end — crossing the line at three hours and 48 minutes. Redemption.
I don’t yet know where my next big international race will be — maybe the Great Wall Marathon in China — but I do know that I have never felt so inspired. I’m fitter than I have ever been and now I see the world through a different lens. I’ve made friends along the way, too.
Staying active and having a goal to work towards has changed my life, as well as my physical and mental health. In May I’ll be running the Creds Media Marathon London half to raise money for Suicide & Co, an important charity that supports those bereaved by suicide. Marathon running has transformed me — it could do the same for you, too.
Of course, the London marathon proper is my ultimate goal. London is my home. It’s a city with endless possibilities and a melting pot of culture. To take part in one of the greatest marathons in the world would be a dream come true and maybe one day I’ll get lucky in the ballot. To all those taking part on Sunday, I envy you. Remember, as a wise man on the Eurostar once told me, the hard part is over, now it’s time to enjoy it. Good luck, I’ll be cheering you on.
Ashley is raising money on the behalf of Suicide&Co
.jpg?w=600)
