Blog? It’s more like an essay or thesis about the Chicago Marathon! – C’mon in!

October 25, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

“Keep your head up, and take it all in”

…the last words Gav said to me before he left for his corral, and they were still going through my head as I headed towards mine. A wee early spoiler for you, I did indeed keep my head up, I took it all in and lived in the moment for every single second. Chicago was the home of Michael Jordan’s Last Dance but it was the playground for my First Dance…and I had an absolute ball. Get yourself comfy, maybe grab a cuppa and I’ll tell you all about it (not every single second, but I can’t see this being a short one). You might want to read it in instalments. UPDATE: I’ve come back to this first paragraph from where I’m currently writing – I’m sorry, this is now an essay, actually I think the last essay I wrote was shorter than this. It’s what blogs might have looked like back in Tolstoy’s day… Ach, it’s the last post, let’s go out with a marathon not a sprint…

Before leaving for Chicago, race week started as you might expect for a debut marathoner…the maranoia kicking in big time and every little ache being accentuated ten-fold. What’s wrong with my toe? Is that a hot spot on my foot? IT band now? Really? I pretty much walked into my sports massage appointment with a shopping list but of course none of these things were actually bad and luckily Tommy focused on the ‘usual suspects’ that give me bother. I woke up on Tuesday feeling in good shape from the pre-race MOT and having done a little four mile stretch at the start of the week, decided I was giving myself the time off between now and the race…only to question if this was a sensible move every day that followed. The temptation to have a wee run along the River Walk or Lake Front was HUGE, but I figured we’d do a fair amount of walking in the days before the race and listened to those who told me that after 18 weeks of training, ‘the hay was in the barn’.

About a month ago, we got the message that United had cancelled our direct flight from Edinburgh to O’Hare and we were now going via Dulles (with really tight connection time to add to the stress). We were now getting in on Wednesday night rather than the afternoon and after moaning about it for a bit, I resigned myself to the fact we could do nothing about it and figured it might make getting to sleep on the first night a bit easier. Another major spoiler dear reader, it did not. After a couple of hours sleep, I was wide awake and staring into the darkness…and so began a theme for the next four nights. From leaving Dunfermline on Wednesday to toeing the start line on Sunday, I reckon I slept a total of 13 hours…and it was horrible. During the day was fine, during the day was actually great fun but as each day went on, I was feeling more fatigued…and thinking SURELY tonight will be different. I got four hours continuous on the Friday and it felt like winning the lottery. I was expecting a sleepless Saturday night…but not Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I’d wake up and it was like someone had turned the gas on – was it adrenaline, nerves, excitement, anxiety, maranoia, a cocktail of everything? Probably. I always struggle to acclimatize heading west but this was the worst I’ve ever felt (heading back east is easy, despite everyone telling me the opposite is true for them). Of course, the more you want to sleep, the more you think about it, the more active the brain gets and less likely you are of getting any. It didn’t even feel like I was thinking about the race when I woke up or during the dark hours that followed. But my ‘resting’ heart rate wasn’t resting and my body was clearly thinking about the race even if I didn’t consciously think I was. I kept telling myself this is supposed to be fun, an experience to be enjoyed, but the occasion had clearly gripped me. In hindsight, it’s maybe not surprising. I don’t even think it was because it was my first marathon race, or that it was a big event or that I had been raising money for charity. I’ve waited three years for this, it’s the dream race in the dream city. I’ve gone from feeling pretty much finished as a runner, to being days away from the start line. This was a big deal for me and those three years were now three or four days.

When I was lying awake, I started scribbling stuff down for the blog but looking back at it, it reads exactly like someone who is living off of fumes and there’s not a bit of punctuation in it anywhere (what’s new I hear you say). Suffice to say come Saturday night about half eleven, I felt exhausted and had no idea where I was going to find the energy for a marathon. Yet a few hours later, as I was getting ready to get up, it was like there was a reset, my body seemed to relax and there was an acceptance that ‘time had ran out’ – there would be no chance to get any more sleep and that I was going to go out and run a marathon. And do you know what? I felt ready. One of the lads from the Young Hearts Run Free podcast had told me during the week not to think about the lack of sleep during the race and that I’d crash at the end. I actually didn’t crash on the Sunday night, but I also didn’t think about it for a single second of the run or from when I got up to get ready. And although there’s no way to say for sure, I genuinely don’t think it had any major impact on my race.

Jings this feels like a bleak start eh? I promise you it gets lighter….let’s go to the Expo! We went on the Thursday morning for opening day, figuring it would be quieter, all the merch wouldn’t have sold out and it would give us the next few days to take it easy. Every taxi driver we had would chat to us about the race or about football (or both) and our journey to the Expo took us a reverse of the first mile and through the start line (to our surprise we found out that the route came straight past our hotel, so that made it easy for Scott’s first spectator spot). After the taxi took a few corners that Max Verstappen would’ve been proud of, we were in the Expo…with the accompanying dramatic music from the PA system doing nothing to keep my excitement in check! I was ready to run now! People talked about how I’d feel like a coiled spring or a dug on a lead (charming) but they were all spot on – Scott even said on the Friday night, you just need to get to the start line now, you’re ready. If I could have started that night, I’d have probably said yes! There was a good buzz about the expo, I got to meet and thank all the volunteers from Team RMHC, chatting to people on all the stands, photos with all the backdrops and picking up a ton of free stuff (Fifers love a freebie, eh?). I also picked up a few race pace plans based on some of the thinking I’d done in the last few weeks…but more on that later. The branded cowbell is going to come in handy for when I get back to cheering pals on at races. I was pretty underwhelmed with the official Nike gear and merchandise – just a bit plain, and a color range that gave you no indication it was bespoke for Chicago. But Fleet Feet (think Run4It in Chicago), Saucony and a few other brands nailed it with some great looking kit in the colours of the Chicago flag and I treated myself to a few bits and pieces. If you see me at a parkrun between now and the end of the year, I’ll be a head to toe walking brand ambassador for the city of Chicago…even more so after picking up some cool Under Armour gear (another brand who absolutely nailed it, in terms of providing some great Chicago themed merch and a great customer experience from their store on Michigan Avenue). It was a scorcher of day and we left the Expo and took a walk along the Lake Front trail, wee tour of Soldier Field and then stopped for a drink in the shade near the Shedd Aquarium. It’s a part of the city I used to run a lot, and it was nice to take in the view of the city skyline from the steps at the Shedd, looking out towards Columbus Drive and Grant Park…where the dream would start and finish in a few days time.

As far as the pre-race goes, I’m not sure I could’ve had a better few hours before the race started. It definitely helped that I was with Gav for most of it. I made my breakfast in the room (bananas and peanut butter bagels has been the standard on long run days) and then on the underground to Jackson. The station was literally underneath the hotel, a few stops and then a short walk to Grant Park. It was a chilly fresh morning and fair play to the runner who was ‘travelling light’ with just a little plastic poncho over his running gear. We were there for about 5:30am so got quickly through the security check and on to the RMHC tent. The charity looked after us so well on the day, both pre and post-race (and indeed all the way up to race day). We had our own bag drop, seats and tables, toilets, breakfast buffet (I could’ve just got my bananas and bagels here too, but I had some porridge to top things up) a stretch/foam roller area and a DJ who was doing a great job hyping us up, with a nice mix of positivity and good tunes. The butterflies had kicked in, but I like that feeling. It’s the feeling of nerves turning to excitement. It was great to meet some work colleagues and friends from the charity that I’d worked with in 2019 (which led to me applying for the marathon) and just nice chatting to Gav and all the RMHC runners – all of it just helped put me at ease. What didn’t put me at ease, was try as I might, I was having no joy at the ‘porta potty’. Runners will know what I mean here and possibly feel my pain, non-runners will be pulling a face at all this toilet talk. I never usually have a problem here on race days, but I figured I’d probably have to make a pit-stop at some point during the race. I didn’t – so that’s the end of the toilet talk! I used to live along the street from the United Center and I’d go to the hockey every night it was on (Let’s Go Hawks!). Jim Cornelison does a spine-tingling rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner before the puck drop and the race organisers had hired him to the do the anthem. As I stood listening, I could feel the smile appearing on my face. It’s time. I tapped my pocket that had a 50p poker chip in it; given to me years ago by someone very special who I miss every day. As long as you’ve got a chip, you’ve got a chance I used to tell him. Mon then, Jimmy, I said, let’s go.

A short walk to Corral H. I was here because back in 2019 when feeling much fitter, faster and probably drunk, I’d estimated a finish time of 4:00-4:15. I didn’t see any point in trying to move back, I figured I’d find a space and run my race and there would be plenty space for the quicker runners to go by (and there was). I got chatting to Lisa, a veteran of many marathons including a fair few Chicago races. We talked about running, Chicago, family, everything and anything and as we moved closer to the start line wished each other well and got ready for the off. ONE MINUTE shouts the PA announcer. I’m buzzing, but I know I need to be disciplined and not let the adrenalin take over and go off too quick. Everyone told me it would feel crowded and I might need to weave for a bit and whilst it was like waves of people for as far as the eyes could see, I got a clear path pretty quickly. Months of training, years of anticipation, the wait is over and we’re off.

If I close my eyes, I can visualise most of the run but don’t worry, you’re not going to get a full-length commentary. But maybe get that 2^nd cup of tea and a biscuit – I’ve no idea how long this next bit is going to take.

You meet the crowds within the first 300 metres or so as you head ‘under the city’ before reappearing at the river. And from then, you’re never really alone until you make the turn for Roosevelt and the finish line. And the crowds were awesome. The best money I’ve spent on marathon prep was the fiver I spent in the Dunfermline Athletic club shop, getting David to put my name on my vest. SO many people shouting your name and I tried to acknowledge all of them. I’m feeling emotional that first mile, probably the first three miles as you run through downtown. I will probably always be a wannabe Chicagoan but it feels like a home race. I’m smiling, but I can feel the dampness in my eyes – I wonder how it must have looked to the crowds? I tapped my chip – I’d tap it a few times along the course and sometimes have a wee chat with him. I spotted a big Scotland flag and roared out to the owners, then Scott (he’d see me three times and did an amazing job getting round the course) and I was feeling great, felt light on my feet. I knew I wasn’t going quick, but that was the plan – the form felt good and so did the knees.

Heading north towards Lincoln Park, and Lake Shore and Boystown, I’m starting to settle into a rhythm. I’ve found the ‘blue line’ (that marks the quickest way home). One watch is already so out of sync and thinks I’ve ran more miles than I have, so that just becomes a timer. On the other watch (don’t ask why two) it’s showing me that the pace is quickening, not by much, but it’s dipping under the 10min miles. When you get to the furthest north point in the course, not far from Wrigley Field, you make the turn to head south back towards the city and that’s where I had a decision to make. I could feel the sun coming up and the words of our Wrigley Field tour guide, Steve, himself a veteran Chicago marathoner (and the Strathearn Marathon I found out) and cross-country coach were ringing in my ears. “Don’t get cocky”. He told us that if the sun is coming up (and it was), you’ll feel it in the 2^nd half of the race where it’s less sheltered from the buildings. I could try to keep increasing the pace, trying to get down to 9:30s (which had been pretty regular in training) and hope to maintain it, knowing that I’d be in unknown territory after I got to Mile 21 and the wheels could fall off. Do that, and best case you might get around 4:20, maybe quicker (and 4:20 was one of the first training plans I picked up). Or, I’m relatively comfortable at around 10/10+ minute miles, I’m enjoying this, the legs are feeling ok and I’m pretty confident I could maintain this for the next 20 miles. Stick to this and I could get in around 4:30. I wanted to be able to look back on my Chicago experience and say I’d enjoyed it – and genuinely mean it. Finishing 10 or 15 minutes before 4:30 wouldn’t have added a huge amount of ‘extra happiness’. But trying to go for it, blowing up and then struggling home would definitely impact the happiness.

So I decided on the 4:30. Please don’t think for a second that I was ‘cruising’ this and it was a doddle or the easy option. I was still having to work and was feeling hungry at this point (unusual) but a gel quelled that a bit and I was keeping the salt levels topped up like I’d done throughout all the long runs (cheers Gav). I was doing ok with hydration too but with no frame of reference for how much is enough, I was grabbing a drink at every station – water to start, then the Gatorade a little bit further on (eventually it would be both at each stop). The run south back towards downtown had crowds on both sides of the road again and they were brilliant. Whether it was individual shouts to me and other runners, or the music, or the cheering it just gave you a wee lift. Not only was my head up, it felt like it was on a swivel, as I looked left and right and taking it all in. Whilst I’ve made a big thing about living in the moment, there is a bit of me wishing I’d taken my phone with me to film some of that. Just sitting here writing this, I’m smiling – some of the shouts (and the signs) were very funny and a wee laugh does wonders for your mood when you’ve still got 20/19/18/17…miles to go.

Reaching halfway confirmed that the plan I had was the only show in town; I reckoned I could keep it 10 something miles, but wasn’t going to find enough quicker miles to bring the time down by much (apart from the finish which was my quickest pace of the whole race). Back in the centre of the city the noise levels had turned up even more – it felt like the sound was echoing and bouncing off the walls of the towers. But I did hear a shout of Birrell from across the street and spotted Scott waving a bottle at me. ACTIVE ROOT….yaaaassss!!! No offence Gatorade, but Active Root was exactly what I wanted and needed at this point and had filled up a bottle on the off chance I might spot Scott during the 2^nd half of the race. It had an instant effect – placebo or not, who cares. Stomach felt better, I felt like I had a bit more energy with the watch suggesting I’d lifted the pace a bit (that was short lived). It might have been the drink, it might have been the fact that I was over half-way (just run another half marathon, right?) but I had also reached a familiar road from long runs of old…I was heading for Greektown…I was going home.

When you left the towers behind, you could feel the sun had been turned up a notch. Nothing to give you the fear, but enough to know you’d need to keep drinking and salt tabbing. I’d stuck a bit sun cream on before leaving the room, but for us gingers, who knows if it’s ever going to be enough! Heading over the Expressway, I spotted my old apartment block, the supermarket, the dry cleaners, the chemist, the pub. This neighbourhood was really good to me back in 2019 and it was nice to back. I clapped and waved to the crowd and for the first time in the race, allowed myself to think…aye, you ARE going to finish the Chicago marathon. Emotional….again. These were streets that I knew and liked. We’d see the United Center, we’d see the Hawks training rink, we’d see the Michelle Obama sports complex (amazing school facility) and we’d see the big Target superstore that genuinely feels like it sells everything (I nearly got lost in it once). Familiarity at this point in the race was good, you knew where you were and where you were going. But my Apple watch was about a 3^rd of a mile over, so the watch would buzz but there would be no sign of the mile markers, you knew you had another few minutes before you’d see another one of those again.

Into Little Italy where I used to like going for my breakfast (the Sweet Maple Cafe should be on all your Chicago bucketlists) so more familiar streets…although they were so much busier than they usually are on a lazy, Sunday morning. I was throwing out the thumbs ups and waving to the people who were rooting for me, I was waving pretty regularly (although it might have looked like I was just shaking out my wrists) and the crowds would respond to that again. Maybe subconsciously I was needing their support a bit more now. My pace was slowing, not by much, but noticeable in my head – when you’ve ran regularly for five months you don’t need a watch to tell you how you are travelling (just as well really, given what was to follow!). It didn’t help that we ran past Al’s Italian Beef and a really nice wee ice cream shop – both thankfully closed or I’d have taken a tactical 5 minute stop for a ‘fuel up’. But I got a massive pick me up a little further along the course when I got to Pilsen. It was like turning up to a party…and we were all the guests of honour. It was also the first point in the route where bananas were being handed out and I was so grateful for ‘solids’ having had a liquid diet up until this point – and even more grateful they’d topped and tailed it to make it easy to eat! It was really cool seeing all the little ‘unofficial fuelling stations’ that local people and communities had set up along the course; from kids setting up water, lemonade and candy stalls through to people standing with bottles of Malort or trays of beers or shots…I think I even spotted banana beer in Pilsen. The crowds were great all along the course, but I think the neighborhoods closer to the finish know that runners need the encouragement a bit more in the later stages of the race. They didn’t disappoint. Pilsen looked like it was having a great time, people dancing, playing instruments, offering out booze, the lot! I applauded the first two and politely declined the kind offers of the third (found out later Gav took a vodka jelly shot – I think that would’ve been my race over). I really wish I’d got a video of running through Pilsen. At sections, the road narrowed (just a little) and it felt like you were even closer to the crowds (not quite Tour De France style) but it was like running through a tunnel of noise – so good. At 21.3 miles I made a quick 10 second stop at the Biofreeze stand to get the spray on my legs…where do you need it asked the volunteer? From the neck down I said, but all over both legs would be fine! Worked quick and definitely took your mind off the growing list of wee aches and pains for a few miles.

Chinatown had another party atmosphere and despite now being into unfamiliar mileage (from a continuous running perspective), I’m feeling confident, strong(ish) but more importantly, happy. I tap the chip again. We’re going to do this. But you are seeing more and more runners who have stopped to stretch, or are trying to walk off a cramp/tightness or people who are now just struggling and you remind yourself not to get cocky. The crowds thin out for a little bit after that, but I spot a friend from work on one of the quieter sections – she cheers and runs along beside me for a bit, filming me on her phone. Looking strong, she said, as I waved goodbye. After seeing the video, dear reader, I did not look very strong…but I was smiling!

Don’t worry, we’re nearly there, you’ve done well to hang with me for this long. If I had medals to hand out, you’d all get one. We hit the part of the course where on the other side of the street you can see the runners that are a mile ahead of you….and you so want to be on the other side of the street. It reminds me of that bit near the end of the Edinburgh half/marathon course for those familiar with it. It’s definitely a lot warmer now so I’m not skipping a drinks station (double drinks now and a bit water down the back). Somewhere around mile 23, the Apple Watch packs in. It’s never covered a run this long before (neither have I, so I don’t blame it) but it had served me well on the average pace. Luckily the other watch, despite telling me I’m now in ultra territory, is still working and it has my elapsed time on it…but it can be a bit temperamental. So I decide I’m going to have to up the pace or at least keep the foot on the gas as much as I can for the last few miles…a long stretch that felt like I was part of a parade. I suppose it was, a welcome home parade! The size of the crowds grew as we got closer to the finish. Again, my head is on a swivel, I’m looking across to both sides of the road and it’s just a sea of cheering faces. A runner peels off to start whipping up the crowd and they respond. I later realise that he distracted me from Scott who was screaming BIRRELL, BIRRELL on the other side of the street, but the noise was so loud, I didn’t hear him. His video clip also looks like I’m still going backwards despite that being the quickest section of my race! 800m to go, ach, I’m going for this, leave nothing out there…I get to 400 and think I’ve maybe kicked early but we then make the right turn and there it is in front of you – ‘Mount Roosevelt’, the only noticeable bit of climbing on the whole course. I love a hill, I’m going for it, driving the arms, I think there’s maybe even a ‘yassssss, let’s go’ shouted as I head for the top and the left hand turn to the home straight. No crowds by this point but I do see a runner who is being helped by a volunteer and I’m hoping they let him go to finish the last few hundred metres, but they don’t seem keen. I hit the top of the hill and ping, wee pull in the quad but I catch it quick enough and adjust the stride. I laugh. Five months, countless miles and everything holds together until the last few hundred metres. I’m now convinced I’m running like I need the toilet (luckily I seemed to dodge the finish line photographers), but I’m charging for the line with a smile on my face, Kate Bush is booming from the PA singing about running up that hill and I know I’m going sub 4:30.

4:26:59 – so let’s round it down to 4:26, eh? 😊 Looking back at the finish line video on NBC, I do a funny wee lifting of my leg to shake out my knee, put both arms up in the air and shout Yaasssssssss to no one in particular! A few photos with the medal (which I love) and the chip, my first beer in months (which I wanted to taste amazing but after all the sugary stuff, didn’t) and then I did the toughest mile of the day…the walk back to meet Gav and Scott – it seemed to take forever! I seemed to be accumulating lots of free stuff along the way (I’m a Fifer, it’s practically in our DNA) and then I met Alan from back home who’d nailed his marathon PB (well done again, if you’re reading this mate – I think you finished the marathon in faster time than it’s taken to write this!). Met up with the guys in the park and we headed down the red carpet back into the RMHC tent where the party was well underway. Thanked my friends from the charity for the opportunity, congratulated friends from work and runners I’d met earlier in the day and then when faced with a completely free bar…this Scotsman just drank Diet Coke and got stuck into the hot buffet instead! I then spent the next few days eating and playing spot the marathon runner on the streets of Chicago. If they didn’t have their medal on, you knew they’d been running based on how they were walking and how they were struggling up and downstairs…I know this because I was in that number!

So there we go, the debut marathon, the dream race in my dream city, done. It probably would’ve been easier just to run along beside me than have to read all of this! A mahoosive thank you again to everyone who has supported me along the way. Without sounding melodramatic, this time last year I thought that was me and running finished. Scunnered by all the injuries, felt like I was going backwards and despite knowing I had this coming up, did not really feel like I had the legs to get through a marathon or even the training that went with it (as you know I had that fear when the training block started too). But as I’ve said before on here, I feel like a runner again, albeit a different one to the 2016 or 2018 or 2020 versions. But I quite like the 2022 version and I’ve already got a plan for 2023! Thanks to your generosity, we’ve raised $2170 for RMHC and the 1100 runners that made up Team RMHC raised over $1.8m – that’s 18000 nights of accommodation to help keep families close when their children are receiving care in hospital. But if you’ve dropped me a wee message of support or come out for a run with me, or shared a bit of advice, provided the training plan (cheers Coach Brendan) or read the blogs or flew thousands of miles around the world to put up with all my maranoia (cheers Scott and Gav it wouldn’t have been the experience it was without you)…you are all ‘Team Chicken Legs’ and that support was priceless. Thank you. And to the owner of that poker chip who I used to sit and watch the Dunfermline Half Marathon on Aberdour Road with, thanks for looking after me out there, I hope you enjoyed the tour… I’m always up for another adventure if you are…

My home away from home – one for all Chicago bucketlists too

The Maranoia Monologue

October 2, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

Well sports fans, a week to go and this is probably the last scribbles before the big day. Everyone talks about the ‘maranoia’ that comes with taper time and this boy has had his share of it this week. I haven’t had the doubts about feeling I need to do more miles, but I have felt every ache and pain that has probably been there for the last 18 weeks…they just a bit more obvious now. First run of the week it was like my legs were frightened to run. I was trying to go out at 9:30-9:40 steady pace for six miles, but struggled to get under 10 minute miles so just chilled out and went with the flow. The other two runs this week (an 8 and a 6) have been much better, although towards the end of Friday night’s run I felt a wee ping in my foot. There’s been a bit sharpness and discomfort in it since then, nothing major, but there is a bit bruising there. I’ve reached for the frozen peas and I’ll probably take it easy for the rest of the weekend and stick to the swimming, hopefully giving it a chance to settle down. I’ve probably more to lose at this stage doing another 8 miles than I have to gain from it fitness wise, so for once, I’ll be sensible…well, that’s the plan at the time I write this. A wee wave of maranoia and I’ll no doubt be lacing up and getting out.

Speaking about lacing up, I had a great bit of customer service from the Brooks team. The shoes I’d been running in for this training block had started to breakdown around the heel. I sent them a few photos and my mileage and they offered to send a replacement pair which arrived a few days later! Can’t ask for better than that. With these being technically a free pair of shoes, does this make me a sponsored athlete? 😊 (still waiting on the chocolate milk sponsor, and there’s still time!!). That said, they did send a replacement pair that are a ½ size bigger…and it could be the maranoia talking but I do think it makes a difference and they aren’t as comfy a fit. I’ve done about four runs with them and I am tempted to go back to what I know for race day and use the older pair.

A few people have asked me what my ambitions are for the race. It feels like I’m giving the equivalent answer to the football manager saying ‘we’re taking one game at a time and not thinking about the championship’ when I tell them that I’m just hoping to get round and enjoy the experience. But that is the truth and I’ve been nothing but honest on here – probably too much. Just getting the chance to run these streets again is a prize in itself, and the fact that I’m getting to run the marathon course, well that’s the icing on a very nice cake.

A few days after my 40^th birthday, I found myself in a taxi heading down the Kennedy Expressway. I’d just spent the weekend with the family in a lovely wee farmhouse on the outskirts of Arbroath (and spent the morning of my birthday running around a freezing cold but cool Montrose parkrun route). As soon as the city skyline came into view, I was a starstruck wee pup, a similar feeling to when I rocked up in New York as a wide-eyed 15 year old heading off on a school exchange programme. The cab dropped me off in the West Loop and I had no idea at the time how big an influence that neighborhood and the city would have on my life in the years that followed. The next day, jetlagged but wide awake, I stuck my trainers on and went exploring. In my head, it felt like a Rocky montage, running underneath the L trainline surrounded by meat warehouses. To anyone else, it probably looked every bit like a breathless wee Scottish guy plodding along half asleep, turning blue with the cold with snot frozen to his face (sorry if you’re having your tea reading this). And if I wasn’t breathless before it, that first time you cross the bridge on Lake, head down the stairs on to the River Walk and then under the Franklin Street bridge to see the city towering above you on both sides is a sight to take anyone’s breath away (I have a million photos from this spot and none of them remotely do it justice). And don’t even get me started on when you run a bit further along the River Walk and head south (or north) along the Lakefront. Magical. A few years later, I spent a few months living in Chicago – an incredible time in my life, but a time where I spent a lot of it on my own, the family were back in Scotland (but did come to visit for an unforgettable few days). Every neighborhood and place I know about in Chicago, I know about because I’ve ran there, or I’ve ran to somewhere near there, or went out with no plan but to explore. And when I was running here, I never felt alone…I felt at home. I remember the night before Thanksgiving, everyone was clearly getting ready for the holidays but the entire city seemed empty. From the minute I left my apartment, along the river walk and down along the lake towards the Shedd aquarium, I was lucky if I saw a handful of people. There’s a set of raised steps like an ampitheatre that hug that part of lake and you can ‘pick a lane’ and head round toward the Planetarium (to a spot they call the best view in the city) and then down to the tiny but tranquil 12^th Street Beach near Northerly Island. The only noise you could hear in this massive city was the water lapping against the shore…and a random group of lads singing and filming a music video!!!! (it was baltic, they must have been frozen). Apart from the band, I felt like I had the entire city to myself and just drank it all in. You hear people talking about the living in the moment – I’m not very good at that. Nostalgia is a spiders web that I’ll regularly and willingly trap myself in and whilst you could say it’s sensible in some ways, I probably also look too far down the line and wonder what the future holds. But for that run at Thanksgiving and indeed for every run in Chicago, I lived in the moment. From the early visits, when I was never sure if I’d ever visit the place again, or when I lived there knowing it was for a set period of time, I made the most of the playground that was on my doorstep and savored every run. I should probably be a bit more like that in other aspects of my life.

I won’t have the city to myself this time next week, but I’m still determined to live in that moment and try to enjoy as much of the experience as I can. That’s not the same as saying I’m not going to work hard; I’m going there to graft. Like the 20 mile runs, I respect the marathon distance…I maybe respect it a bit too much. Fitness wise, there’s bits of me think I could put in 9-9.30 minute miles consistently, sometimes even feeling a bit quicker. But if my knees could talk (and sometimes they feel like they can scream) they’d tell me to stick to a safer, slower more conservative pace 9:45-10 and they’ll try to get me round in one piece – and I’m erring on the side of caution. So ‘the plan’ at this point, is to try and find a clear lane to get into a bit of a rhythm (the blue line would be ideal), not get carried away by the crowds and atmosphere, get the first hour in the legs, then the first half in and then just see how I’m feeling. Aye there’s a ton of things that could go wrong on the day and ‘the wall’ could come at any time when you least expect it. If it does, and I’m sure it will, I’ll deal with it when it comes. But the days of being the ‘eyeballs out runner’ who goes out hard and tries to hang on – sometimes successfully, but always painfully – are probably over, and I’m ok with that.

So team, I think that’s about it. The Chicago Marathon app is available on all good app stores and you can track the Chicken Legs dot by following runner 35283 (my lucky number, what were the chances!). A big thanks again to everyone who has supported me over the last few months in so many different ways…including all of you who have been reading this. I’m not the runner I once was but for the first time in a long time, I feel a wee bit like a runner again. And that’s enough. It’s more than enough.

When I checked in to the Ace hotel in the West Loop – now no longer there, the digital radio had this station called 93XRT as the default station. It was my kind of station and my kind of music. When I moved into my apartment, the first thing I did was get the radio tuned in. The breakfast host, an incredible broadcaster called Lin Brehmer who is currently undergoing treatment for cancer, would regularly feature a song ‘from home’, and every time it came up, the volume was cranked right up before heading out the door for the day. “In a big country, dreams stay with you”. Let’s go Chicago!

A few wee updates…

September 13, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

Hiya pals! There’s been a lot going on since we caught up last. But rather than bore you with an essay or thesis, I’ve scribbled a few updates instead…so you’ll get bored with a series of short paragraphs instead. A sprint not a marathon, if you will!

Fundraising – Let’s start with the big news first (don’t stop reading after this bit though!). Thanks to incredible generosity of family, friends, colleagues and fellow runners, I’ve reached and passed my fundraising target for RMHC and my bib for the race is secured (check out the pinned post for all the mile sponsors). This money will help support some incredible work that the charity does to help keep families close when children are receiving treatment in hospital, and they need each other most. I’ve had the pleasure to work with the charity for 15 years and it will be a privilege to be representing Team RMHC in a few weeks’ time. I’m also really grateful to them, for giving me the opportunity to run the dream race and get back to running in a city where I feel at home.

I’ve always said that support isn’t just financial and there’s an ever-growing squad of people, who have been invaluable in helping to get me ready for this. Training partners, Strava kudos givers, blog readers, car horn beepers and wavers when I’m out running and even my mate who lets me turn his garden into a drink and fuel stop at a weekend – you are all part of Team Chicken Legs (whether you want to be or not) and I appreciate every bit of support you’ve given me.

A number of ‘Firsts’ – Since I was last here, I’ve had my first ever visit to the lovely city of Cologne and in the last week or so, it’s been the first runs in the rain (that I can remember) since training started 15 weeks ago.

And a quick shout out to my first sponsor, Terry. Terry started running during lockdown and has recently been upping the mileage on his solo runs, 5ks > 5 miles > 10ks > 10 miles and completed his first solo half marathon distance run the other day. Brilliant to see – well done again mate!

Cologne was SO warm when I was there, and I made the big mistake of thinking that it would’ve cooled down a bit when I set out after work about 5pm for a sight-seeing recce run (the best way to discover a city IMO). I took a little water bottle, but 40 minutes in, not only was it nearly empty, it felt like drinking warm water from the tap! Every other run after that was done in the morning before the sun came up, but it’s a great city to run where my routes would take in the stunning Cathedral, crisscross the bridges across the Rhine (including the rail bridge, the length of which is covered – and I mean covered in padlocks) and the massive Rheinpark (home of a parkrun) that runs along the banks of the river.

Up until a few weeks ago, I couldn’t recall the last time it had rained, or when I’d ran in the rain. Of course, the first time it happened recently was during a storm and the second time coincided with my longest continuous run ever – the 20 miler!

The weekend long runs have been going pretty well; fitness wise I’ve felt pretty strong, I’ve been recovering from them quickly and the knee pain is a bit hit or miss but has been manageable. I’ve been doing variations of loops of Dunfermline and whilst it can be a bit repetitive, it does allow me to set up drinks stops at different points and I don’t have to carry a lot of food or drinks with me.

The 20 miler was going to be a solo run and I woke up feeling rotten and lethargic, not helped by hearing the rain battering against my window. I started off conservatively, showing respect to the distance ahead – maybe too much respect in hindsight – and took the first hour pretty slowly. I ditched the waterproof jacket that turned out not to be waterproof and tried to kick on from mile 7 and up the pace…but it just wasn’t happening. At mile 10, everything felt really labored and while the splits don’t show any big drop off in times, I was having to work hard to keep it going. That feeling lasted a few miles but I found a second wind for the last five miles and felt pretty comfortable on the home straight, helped by the fact that rain had stopped and I was drying out a bit. I’ve not read too much into those horrible middle miles or dwelt on it too much since. There’s every chance I’ll have highs and lows on race day and it’s all about managing them as it happens, not getting carried away with the highs, not getting too despondent with the lows. But as you can see from the photo, I was happy to enter the 20 zone!

Here’s the waterproof jacket that isn’t waterproof.

Auchterarder Half Marathon: It seems like a long time since I ran in a half marathon race (even if we are doing those distances and then some, most weekends) On Sunday, Gav and I travelled to picturesque Perthshire for the Auchterarder Half Marathon, part of their weekend running festival. The plan had 13 miles scheduled, so it was perfect timing and would make a nice wee change from laps of Scotland’s newest (ancient) city. It’s a class wee race and I’ll be back again next year all going well. A field of about 250 runners, about 100 of whom were doing the ‘double dare’ with the 10k on Saturday and the half on Sunday, really well organised with friendly marshals all of the way along the route. I’d heard about the ‘profile’ of the route (but didnt look at it before the race) and Gav pointed out on the drive up that it looked like a fair bit of climbing after half-way. We’d agreed that this was definitely a training run, nothing crazy, just go out and enjoy it and we stuck to that…for at least 10 miles. First six miles was a really gentle downhill, felt really comfortable but we knew that what goes down, has to come back up and I was bracing myself for the climbs…but they were actually fine. A few of them were short and steep but you could always see the end of them, so just needed to get the arms driving for a bit and up we went. We got running alongside Rhona from the Perth Road Runners and got chatting – and that always helps take your mind off the hills. By about 10 miles, we knew we had a couple of miles of gradual uphill towards the finish but we could get under 2 hours if we upped the pace a bit….so we did (Gav and I blame each other for this idea). We were moving through the field and it’s great for the confidence to find a change of gear that late in a race. With a fairly generous downhill bit on the last mile, we clocked our fastest mile of the race, finishing in 1:58:26

Treating myself to the ‘good stuff’ post race…still no chocolate milk sponsor! 😦

I’m a big fan of the brilliant Young Hearts Run Free podcast so it was great to meet presenters John and Steven who were both part of the (excellent) race crew – John kindly added Big Country’s ‘In A Big Country’ to the pre-race playlist at my request, helping put that wee spring in my step. We also got chatting to Scotland’s legendary amateur weatherman, Windy Wilson, who is also heading for Chicago (Windy in the Windy City – perfect!) to take part in his fourth of the big six marathons. The long-range forecast (not Windy’s) for October has Chicago cloudy and 15 degrees (ish) for race day – which would be perfect, but I’m not going to get hung up on the weather. I’ve ran in Chicago on warm days, rainy days and bitterly baltic days so I’m looking forward to it come rain, hail or shine (well, Cologne type weather would actually be brutal, so none of that).

So it’s just a really long blog post with bold paragraph headings isn’t it? Aye, sorry about that! Less than four weeks to go, the chicken legs are holding up but have their moments. One more ‘long’ long run this week and then it eases off. At this stage, I’m listening to my legs, trying to stick to the plan, but not beholden to it if I think I need a day or two off between now and October 9^th!

Cheers to everyone for your continued support, you’re all stars.

Adventures on Gav’s Loop

August 19, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

After a week of sunshine, swimming pools and an all inclusive wristband, I’m not expecting you to get the violins out for me. But when we landed back into Edinburgh in the early hours of Sunday morning to hefty size queues at the Border Force, 18 solo miles – the longest continuous run, not just of the training block, but ever – was weighing heavy on my mind. I’d always planned to run it at night to give me a decent chance to get a bit of sleep but even with the luxury of two rest days before it, my head was not in the game and I spent a good bit of the morning falling out with myself about it. It didn’t help that I hadn’t mapped out a route in advance for this one, so that added to the apathy. The vast majority of this training block I’ve done well to stick to the plan or if I’ve had to move things about, the sessions still get done. But on this occasion there was no plan…so at lunchtime I made a new one and decided to swap this long run with the following week’s distance and opted for a half marathon instead.

As soon as I decided this, it was like flicking a switch in my head and I went from feeling a bit scunnered to being totally up for it. I quickly decided on doing two of the loops I use for the circa 6 mile sessions and spent the rest of the day looking forward to it. Ask any runner in Dunfermline and they’ll tell you there’s not many places you can run without finding a hill but this loop is probably as good as it gets. Any climbs on it are gradual and/or short but it also has a really generous, long descent through Pittencrieff Park (and you don’t have to do ‘the hill’ that it’s parkrun course is renowned for). In previous training runs, I’d gone for both tempo pace and easy pace and I’ve done it solo and with friends – I’m unofficially calling it ‘Gav’s Loop’ as he was first to propose it.

Within the first few strides, I was surprised by how good I was feeling and the pace that I was travelling. Whether it was the switch to cooler temps from Turkey or still feeling in a good place after parking the 18, I don’t know but there was no rust to shake off or needing a few miles to wake up. So I thought I’m going to just gun it and see how long I could maintain a quicker pace than previous long runs, knowing that if I did blow up, I could slow it down and not be too far from home to get back.

I think I clocked sub 52 for the first loop. I was part buzzing about this and part wondering when the wheels were going to come off. They didn’t. Whilst the 2nd loop was slower, I never went above 8.34 for any mile and my long runs will usually have 9s and occasionally 10 minute miles. I spotted a few running pals on the route and my mate lives along one of the main straights and he opened his door to give me a shout and wave (I think the shout was complimentary but I can’t be sure!). But it was the support of a complete stranger that will be the lasting memory of this run, and what turned out to be my quickest half marathon in three and a bit years. Maybe two miles from the finish, an elderly man was out walking with his wife. He waited until l got closer and said, ‘son, you’re doing really well, keep working hard’.

Dear reader, I could’ve hugged him. I was feeling great, I felt like I was running well and had been smiling all the way round. But he’ll have no idea how good it felt to hear those words and it made sure there was no slouching from me as I made my way home.

I stopped the watch and I was buzzing. It felt like I’d been racing not training and I decided later that night that the 18 mile run would be 3 Gav loops with a bit of adjustment and variation. As much as I love my hometown, and there are a few nice landmarks on the route, continuous loops anywhere can be monotonous…but I think it helps with the mental side of the running too. From a practical point, there’s other benefits over a point to point. I was able to set up a ‘drinks station’ in my mate’s garden (and woke up his dog who in turn woke up their house early on a Saturday morning) and there’s a water tap on the high street so I didn’t have to carry all my nutrition and drinks with me (and thanks to Gav for my wee collapsible Salomon cup for the water stops). Gav also gave me some salt tablets and having encountered the cramp and tightness at a Loch Leven I was determined to make sure I had the electrolytes from the sports drinks but was keen to see if salt tablets would help too (spoiler alert – zero cramp during or after, so now built into the plan for all future long runs and race day).

Despite the obvious runners high, it’s worth saying that the day after the half was a sore one. Literally. Struggling to get down and up the stairs, fatigued with sore legs all day and even though I only had four miles to do, I was dreading and doubting that I could manage it. The first two miles were awful – stiff, sore, almost comical running (I probably looked like I was needing the toilet). I’d considered sacking it off but it was perfect example of a recovery run..by the end I felt so much better than when I’d started. A friend told me not underestimate the importance of the smaller distance sessions and they’re right, every session plays a part.

The 18 miles was going to be a solo run. Saturday is parkrun day for many and I miss them but as the distances ramp up, it’s tougher to incorporate them into runs. I’ve committed to the plan but also committed to getting out early so that there’s a decent amount of the Saturday left to enjoy. I also clocked the weather forecast and knew I wanted to get the bulk of the run done by 10am before the sun came out.

On the second loop I came into Pittencrieff Park a few minutes before the start of parkrun. I spotted the familiar luminous yellow Pitreavie training tops and was nice to see my pals and with a quick row of fist bumps I was away. I got to the bottom of the hill and the marshal for a split second wondered if I was out in front – the only time I’ll ever lead Dunfermline parkrun (I once finished 2nd when I’m assuming everyone else was at the Edinburgh Running Festival). She ended up seeing me as they were clearing up the course when I was on my third lap too!

The last loop was a slog, mentally as well as physically. The knees weren’t behaving, the form was probably slipping but the pace wasn’t hugely dropping off. I’d made the adjustment to the last loop so that I’d finish right outside the Coop – I wanted instant access to the (still unsponsored) chocolate milk and Lucozade. Having set off thinking I’d be three hours on my feet, it ended up around 2’47 so pace wise good but I definitely went off waaaayyy too fast. Head was clearly still thinking I was picking up where I’d left off with the half, but the first four miles were poorly paced and I need to avoid that come race day and not get caught up in the hype and atmosphere (you know I’m totally going to get caught up in the hype and atmosphere, right?). On the one hand, I’m determined to enjoy the experience of race day but I’m also determined to have a disciplined run…and the former is dependent – or at least influences – the latter.

Still waiting on the chocolate milk sponsor

So the longest continuous run of the training block and indeed my entire life (sounds more dramatic when you say that) is done…and we will do it all again this Saturday. Chicago Is my first marathon race but it’s not my first marathon distance and loops of Dunfermline and a variation of Gavs loop were part of my ‘accidental marathon’ in 2020. A friend had signed up for an Ironman but the pandemic put paid to that. Having raised money for local children’s health charities he didn’t want to let them down so decided he’d do a solo Ironman with a few friends supporting him on each of the disciplines. People who do Ironman events are next level. People who do them solo with none of the benefits of an organised event with race conditions are legends. I genuinely went out thinking I’d run the first half and then with him in good shape, I’d drop out and he’d enjoy that last lap or so solo and race into his street to the cheers of family and friends (that last bit happened, but it didn’t quite work out like that). But there was no dropping out at halfway and I supported him for the full distance. Walk/jog, walk, walk/run, whatever it took, the plan changed but we were getting that marathon done and I was coming along for the ride. That day wasn’t about me, but I learned a lot that day. From a relatively limited training base, I covered a marathon distance…within the time limit of the Chicago marathon. So as a rookie marathon ‘racer’ I’ve got that experience in the bank and when the tough times kick in (which is a case of when rather than if), I can draw on stuff like that to help carry me through.

These posts are getting awfully long aren’t they? Not the most catchy content out there. I’m writing this on the train home from London and you lose track of how long the post is when scribbling on a phone. It’s been nice to run in London again, the first time in a long time (and first time since training plan started). Victoria Park was packed with runners all of them seemingly passing me with ease and probably a fair amount of London marathon participants among them. We’ve got a few more new cities to run in over the next few weeks but before then, it’s back to Scotland’s oldest ‘new’ city for those 18 miles – see you on the loop!

Thumbs up London, thumbs down for the lack of rain for this grass

Killin calling…

August 9, 2022August 9, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

The wee village of Killin is a beautiful place, maybe one of my favourites in all of Scotland. I ‘discovered’ it fairly recently; it wasn’t a place I’d visited as a kid or at least remember visiting, and I’ve got a really good visual memory of places I’ve been before. I’m also convinced it is a place that has restorative powers or at least it has that effect on me and another weekend there a few weeks ago did nothing to dissuade me from this. In some ways it’s a place of contradictions or opposites. It’s a place I associate with happiness and laughter but also shock and sadness. It’s a place of peace and solitude but then there’s the crashing noise from a busy Falls of Dochart as you sit eating your breakfast on the rocks, or the sound of singing and revelry from the previous night in the nearby Inn still ringing in your ears. It’s a place to relax but more recently with the hill walking, a bit of Munro bagging and running, it’s been a place to work. It also has an excellent Chip Van which provided the essential carb load before my 16 mile run.

The pizza supper aside, I was well behaved the night before – soft drinks were as heavy as I got and I was asleep at a reasonable hour and awake again at a ridiculous one. Sixteen miles would be the longest run to date and it was also another solo one. I’d considered an 8 mile out and back along Glen Ogle; the view from and towards the viaduct stops me in my tracks metaphorically and literally (I’ve parked up and just stared at it plenty of times). But I thought I’d be sensible and plot an 8ish mile route for two loops, with a sports drink stashed at halfway. I’d recced or ran most of it before apart from the last section of the first loop which to my surprise and a few expletives, turned out to a be a steady climb.

The forecast had threatened rain and the menacing looking sky suggested it would deliver. But I gambled on it staying fair, left the waterproof behind and it paid off…barring a little shower about ten mins towards the end which was more blessing than curse.

I think my route takes in large chunks of the Killin 10k. I headed out of the village and turned left toward the power station on a looped single track road that would bring me back into Killin before heading along the banks of the Tay, through a woodland trail to the Falls and then that troublesome wee
climb (which fortunately I only had to do once) before near enough the same again. But that single track loop made up the bulk of the run and it was perfect. If you’ve run it before, you’ll know it’s not flat, few lumps and bumps and a right wee menace of a climb Beside the power station. But I had the road to myself and the place to myself barring a few curious sheep, lambs and cows and a salute from a farmer who was checking in on the herd.

As I reached the power station, I noticed my water bottles in my belt felt quite light…turns out they were empty. I’d focused so much on fuelling well at breakfast and on where I’d stash my sports drink that I’d forgotten about the water. A wee gel washed down with a glug from Loch Tay on Lap 1 and I was fine.

Normally the start of another loop is usually met with a sigh as you ponder more of the same, but no danger of that up here. None of my photos do the run justice, but I loved it. I smiled a lot, I spoke to myself out loud a fair bit. I allowed myself to think about race day and being back in Chicago (and felt a wee bit emotional as the prospect). And then I smiled a bit more.

Post race brunch was the pies I’d brought with me from Hunters of Kinross. Then we packed a bag of cans (my first beers for a while) and headed for a bit fishing. The fish obviously saw us coming and headed up stream and well out of rods way. And then when we decided to go for an easier option for a fish tea…the Chip Van was closed due to a faulty fryer! 😦

Speaking of Kinross, it seems to have become the unofficial training ground for the marathon. I had to bring the next long run forward to the Friday as we flew out to Turkey the next day. It led to a packed seven days starting with Killin and then twelve miles at Loch Leven with a hill session, a six miler and a seven mile session sandwiched in between. But I headed to Kinross feeling fresh (pre holiday vibes and a fairly strong run the night before definitely helping) and I was in good company; ultra running company to be exact. Louise and Darren fresh from the recent Glen Glen ultra where Lou picked up 2nd in the women’s race and Gav back from Iceland in an event that seemed to have all four seasons in one race. The sun was out and the pace was chatty.

*Ultra runners who eat half marathons for breakfast…and me who eats square sausage rolls for his.*

I’ve been so preoccupied thinking that the knees might stop me that I’ve almost forgotten that it’s possible to get other injuries or knocks – either on the day or during the training block – that might do for me. Just after Mile 9 I felt the imaginary claw pinching the back of my calf. Captain Cramp just letting you know he’s in the neighbourhood. He’s not grabbing you yet but if you make the wrong twist turn or tweak, he’ll come back with the vice. I nursed it round the last few miles without much of a drop in pace but it was a wee reminder, along with the twinges in my back that have been a bit more frequent recently, that I need to be careful. Maybe a sports drink would’ve helped, maybe it was the heat or it was just a reaction to a busy week of running…or a combo of all three. Whatever it was, I took on about four litres of fluids and lay on the cool of my bathroom floor long enough for it to be as a hot a mess as I was.

If I was feeling the heat at Loch Leven, that was nothing compared to what we flew into the following day for a week’s holiday in Kusadasi. Arriving at the hotel around midnight to see that the temps were still in the high twenties and it would barely drop below 30 during the day all week. I’m writing this bit sitting outside on a lounger at the side of the pool at quarter to seven at night and it’s finally starting to feel a bit cooler. I’ve managed to stick to the plan and got out for a five and two sixes as well as a decent cross training session in the pool (which is three metres from my bed, so I’ve no excuse). The last run of the holiday was supposed to be a four but I had to move Week 10’s long run to the Sunday as we travel home on Saturday (and 18 miles here, even in the early morning heat would need some amount of stashed water bottles!). Even getting out before 7am, the sun is wide awake and already cranking up the heat but I’m really happy with how I’ve ran in these conditions, all good practice and I got progressively quicker throughout the week. Three and half days of rest (and eating) followed before the next long run, which I’ll tell you about another time – I’ve kept you here for far too long!

I am getting really close to reaching my fundraising target, that you again to everyone who has donated and for anyone who’d like to sponsor me, you can head over to my Team RMHC page. But I’d also love to hear from any running pals who would be up for running with me – either during the week on the shorter sessions (usually Mon,Tue,Thu) or for some or all of the long runs (usually Saturdays). If you get fed up of my chat on the run, you can just sneakily up the pace and I’ll go quiet quick enough!

Week 11 eh? Let’s go!

The Tin Man’s Loch Leven adventures

July 21, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

In the last few weeks I’ve jokingly referred to myself as the Tin Man as I creak and crunch along the road of this marathon adventure. After my 15 miler (my longest run since the ‘accidental marathon’) I was feeling a bit like Metal Mickey (one for kids of a certain age) and more in need of a pint of WD40 than a litre of chocolate milk.

A few weeks ago, I cramped up towards the end of my swim but loosened it off and thought no more about it. I woke up the next morning with my calf was in bits and feeling really sore. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was struggling to get up the stairs, I would’ve laughed at the irony of getting injured during the session that is supposed to have the least impact on your body. I had a 6 mile run scheduled in the plan but as the day went on I decided there was no way I should be going anywhere on it, even at an easy pace. So I took a few days off and foam rollered it to within an inch of its life to get myself ready for the first ‘half marathon’ long run of the training block. A timely note from charity noted that this is the point in the plan where runners are prone to picking up injuries. Having ignored the signs from my body loads of times before, a rare fleeting moment of common sense kicked in and I gave myself that extra recovery day.

My two most recent long runs have been on the trails around Loch Leven. As far as training grounds go, it’s definitely one my favourites. A near 12 mile trail around the Loch, passing little beaches, lavender fields, the nature reserve, the Castle (the story of Mary Queen of Scots being imprisoned on the island and escaping is one of the few things I remember from High School history) and a fair bit of woodland, as well as being surrounded by the hills that I used to enjoy running and climbing – and hopefully I can get back to that again soon. The scenery definitely helps the miles pass a bit quicker, although the heat these last few weeks has definitely tried to play a part in making the miles feel harder! Many of my fellow Team RMHC team mates have said they are jealous of the views from my runs but then they show me photos of Chicago and the jealousy is quickly reciprocated!

Mike and Lesley joined me for the half marathon and then last Saturday I added a few more miles and did a 15 mile solo session, starting and finishing at Kinross High School (the finish line for the Loch Leven half marathon, a magic wee race that I’d recommend to anyone). The half was great, really enjoyed the company and the laughs going round. I’d worn compression socks as a bit of a comfort blanket for the calf but in the end it gave me no trouble and we got out early enough to miss the ‘worse’ of the sun (or the best, depending on whether or not you’re running or sunbathing). I celebrated with chocolate milk – still no sponsor – and a trip to Hunter’s of Kinross, the local butchers that make amazing pies. I’m a runner that does a half marathon and then eats and recovers like they’ve just run an ultra!

While I was looking forward to the 15 miles, I was also a wee bit anxious about it too. I think I’m going to feel like that for all of my long runs between now and October, especially when I make the step up in miles. Not anxious in terms of whether or not I can do it – I’m confident I’ve got the tank for it – but there’s still a wee voice at the back of my head asking if my body can sustain the training and the impact it’s having. It’s quite a strange feeling because this is also the first time in a long time, maybe since I was in Chicago in 2019, that I feel like a runner again – as opposed to someone who occasionally runs. Running feels like a positive influence on my life again. There’s definition and tone in parts of my body that haven’t had definition and tone for quite some time. Sadly, there are other parts that remain toneless and probably will for the foreseeable but the weight is heading in the right direction, even if the preferred vest for race day remains a bit ‘snug’. And I’ve managed to get back into that state of mind when I’m out running where I can either use the time to completely clear the head of everything or it can become a productive time to think; coming up with ideas, getting myself organised…and occasionally a few ideas for this blog will pop into my head that I hopefully remember later on. It’s a really nice choice to have and there’s a time and a place for both.

But then there’s that wee voice…(there’s always a ‘but’ even though my mum taught me never to start sentences with But…sorry mum). I know this is common for marathoners, but every wee ache or pain or bit of tightness or tenderness is suddenly exaggerated ten-fold. I’m even waking up with new wee pains or feeling new aches on rest days. Those parts of my legs that I said I wouldn’t talk about are still letting me know they really don’t like this running lark – the left one especially (you’re supposed to be the good one and I’ve now decided you are the naughty one). Sometimes they will let me know early doors and then give me a break later on whereas other times, they lull me into a false sense of security, we get miles into the run and then boom, remember us!!! I was listening to the Young Hearts Run Free podcast last night where a runner was talking about ‘learning to suffer’. He was talking about suffering during races, but I think I’ve just started my learning for Chicago a bit early.

I went off on a wee bit of detour there and probably shared more about the inner workings of my head than I was planning to…so back to the 15 miler. Like the half the week before, I paced it really well. Looking through all the splits there’s a consistency there, a relatively gentle first few miles to warm up, start feeling comfortable three or four miles in and then settling in to a consistent rhythm and form, trying not to sink into the hips the further into the run I go. I’m taking gels and two wee bottles of water with me on the long runs now and I planted a sports drink along the route behind a tree, hoping that a dog wouldn’t come along and pee on it before I got there. At thirteen miles in, I felt great…but at fourteen miles as I made my way back to the school, I felt burst – it was like flicking a switch. I started feeling some twinges in my lower back that impacted my breathing for a little bit, but it didn’t last too long. It was however, a reminder that it’s not just your legs you need to worry about during the longer runs and indeed the race itself. I have tried to work hard on my form, trying to be efficient, strong and consistent and I definitely feel that there’s been improvements. One of my running pals who is a physio commented favorably on my form the other week but as another in our group less generously pointed out, I’m probably just the best of a bad bunch. 😊

I’m finishing this post during a relatively ‘easy’ week 8, a few 5 mile runs and a 5 mile interval session but even with Scotland avoiding the worst of the heatwave (and it really is the worst, there’s nothing remotely positive about record highs) those runs on Monday and Tuesday were hard going. Tonight was supposed to be a 5m tempo, but I was really sluggish, lethargic and quite frankly fed up when I started and plodded the first two miles before getting a bit of second wind. I made the turn for home, committed to upping and sustaining the pace and felt strong all the way back. From two 9.50 ish miles to start to finishing with a 8.08 4^th mile then a 7.33 5^th mile! Delighted with that.

Tomorrow I head up to one of my favourite places in Scotland, Killin, for a few days. Mostly to spend a bit time with my pals, recharge and have a laugh but there’s also a small matter of a 16 mile long run on Saturday morning. As tempting as it is to do an out and back route given the stunning scenery along Glen Ogle, I’ve plotted an 8 mile route in and out of the village to do 2 loops. A loop course allows me to place a few drinks on the route and again hope that dogs don’t spot them when out for their morning walk.

Finally, I’m not going to spam everyone with loads of sponsor requests, support comes in many forms, not just financial and I appreciate all of it. But someone did point out to me that the panel with my sponsorship link only appears in the desktop version of the blog not the mobile (thank you for the feedback). So if anyone is interested and able to sponsor me, you can do so over here http://support.rmhc.org/goto/birrell and there’s still some spaces left on my wee grid to become an official mile sponsor for Team Chicken Legs!

Have a good weekend when you get there!

Cutback Week

July 4, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

I’m writing this at the end of ‘cutback week’. It pretty much involved dialing back the Saturday miles a little bit but I didn’t cut back on anything else, including the chocolate milk or the peanuts. But the seven miler was a lot of fun, as was the rest of week because I ran most of it with my pals. Two midweek 10ks with Gav, who will be on the plane with me and toeing the line in Chicago too and then with David whose gentle jog is now my tempo run! And then Saturday with Mike, Lesley, Susan and John it was the Lochore Meadows parkrun, plus another loop of the loch and then we added an 8th mile along the Pit Road to hit Susan’s Glasgow half marathon training plan. The miles definitely pass a lot quicker when you are running with your friends. I’ve been told that I need to be running these runs at conversational pace and I’ve chatted away on all three of those…but you should see the looks I get from walkers when I’m chatting away to myself on solo runs (and I do this regularly just to see if I’m still pacing it ok).

As I sit here looking at July’s training plan, particularly the long runs, it’s starting to feel like we are getting down to business. 13, 15, 16, 12 mile long runs. The next time I’m due to run 8 miles on a Saturday again is the week AFTER the marathon as part of the cool-down! And in August the miles just keep on climbing. I’ve got company on a few of these long runs in July, where I’m heading for what I hope will be a midgie-free couple of runs around Loch Leven. I’m also off to Killin, a place that I absolutely love, for one of those weekends and that’s the 16 miler. Solo. Eek. I’ve only ran about the village a few times and never that distance, so I’m trying to plan a route that isn’t too hilly. In 2019, I was due to run the Glen Ogle Ultra up there, but then there was a little matter of a chance to go and work and live for Chicago three months (and I’ll bore you with the Chicago story in another blog) so there’s unfinished business up there…and maybe one for next year!

I mentioned in the last post that I was running the Milnathort Dash, my first race in about two and half years – I think Devilla Forest trail run in 2020 before everything locked down was the last. It matched the training plan but if I’m being really honest, I entered because it’s a great wee race organised by a local club, you know loads of the runners…and they do a post-race buffet with home baking. It had been overcast the entire day and just as I was packing up at work to get ready, I noticed the sun had come out. Of course it had. The last time I ran this race, it was boiling and I was convinced I was going to faint about 2 miles in. Similar conditions this year, but it was all about pacing not racing this year. Pretty steady up the hill – it’s about 250m hill climb to start (it feels a lot longer) levels off for a bit, before a steady climb up to the farm. I started near the back, settled in and enjoyed the first few kms. By the time we made the turn for the farm, I was feeling pretty good and making my way through the field. I haven’t done a lot of hill work as part of the programme. I actually haven’t done any hill work as part of the programme, but I still feel quite comfortable and able to maintain an ok pace on the climbs. I used to love hill running, so maybe there’s still a bit left in the legs. It’s only a 5.2 mile course, but it has a water station and what a welcome sight it is/was, and it also signifies the start of the downhill finish. The plan asked for a 5m tempo and for the 2^nd half of the race at least, I gave it as much tempo as I could. Managed to gain a few more places on the downhill and then I put the burners on for the finish…I could clearly smell the buffet. My time was considerably slower than previous races, but I was delighted with how the run had gone and I enjoyed the sandwiches, home baking and a blether with pals afterwards. I even stopped off on the way home for a big bottle of chocolate milk (THE best post-run recovery drink whether it’s scientifically proven or not). As well as appealing for sponsors for my charity through the blog, if there’s any chocolate milk brands out there that want to supply me with bottles of the stuff, I’ll gladly decorate this blog in your logo! 😃

Photo credit – Gordon Donnachie @ fishygordon’s Run Pix

So just a wee short post to keep me honest and keep me scribbling. Thanks to everyone who has mentioned the blog or dropped me a wee message about it, it’s lovely to hear that people are enjoying it. Any wee share, like or comment is appreciated and who knows, a delicious chocolate milk producer could see the blog as a result and become the Official Chocolate Milk Partner of Team Chicken Legs. Speaking of sponsors, I’ve still got some boxes free for the first 30 sponsors. For the price of a coffee or a pint, you could grab yourself a mile of the race (you don’t need to run an actual mile if you don’t want to) and help support the great work of RMHC. Right, there’s a six miler to kick off week 6, so I’m lacing up and heading out. Have a good week!

Week Three in Warsaw

June 22, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

Dzień dobry from Warsaw (well, I’m back home now, but I did start thinking about this blog post and scribbling when I was out there, so it still counts).

I’m fortunate that I get to do a little bit of travelling with my work and having spent the last few years in my little studio at home, it’s been great to get back out and spend time with colleagues in person. I find it quite energizing and it’s just as well that I do because last week I needed all the energy I could get for week 3 of training, including the longest, long run so far. It was my first trip to Warsaw and like Madrid a few weeks ago, I’m hoping it won’t be my last. I was working Wednesday through until Friday lunchtime (we get Friday afternoons off during the summer – ‘Summer Fridays’ are the best!) and then I decided to stay on for a bit sightseeing, coming back early (very early) on Sunday morning.

I had to move some of the training sessions around a bit with Wednesday effectively being a ‘rest day’ due to the travelling and work but as you’ll see, I think I more than made up for it! According to my plan, I had a 5 mile easy run to do on Thursday so got out nice and early for a route that took in the beautiful Saxon Gardens (the oldest public park in the city), down towards the towering (and polarising) Palace of Culture and Science and then back along to the gorgeous Old Town where I was staying…and straight into an amazing steam room and swimming pool that was a wee bit different to what I’m used to at my local leisure centre. My room had a balcony within a courtyard which was not only great to work from, it was perfect for washing and drying out my running gear…although it slightly lowered the tone of the neighbourhood. Hey, you can take the boy out of Fife…

Fridays are rest days and a bit of time to recover before Saturday’s 9 miler would’ve made a lot of sense. Dear reader, I must confess…I did not rest. From the Castle in the Old Town you can see across the river towards the stunning Stadion Narodowy and I’m a big fan of stadiums…I like them more than rest days. So up early again, and like Madrid, the streets of the Old Town that were bustling the previous evening, were pretty much empty and I had the place to myself as I made my way down to the Vistula River. The stadium is built on a platform that makes it visible for miles around, but at mid-level there’s a massive concourse that is exactly 1km loop – it’s even marked out for cyclists, runners and skaters (and there was plenty of all three). So a quick loop, few photos and then back across the bridge and along the Vistula which has cycle paths and pedestrian lanes all the way along it back to the Old Town. Stunning run on a stunning morning and even at 7am it was hot. So OF COURSE, I had to cool down in that pool again and then go for a nice (big) breakfast.

After finishing up work at lunchtime I checked out of the amazing hotel with their equally amazing Spa and made my way to a more modest abode for the next two nights, well positioned not far from the Palace of Culture and Science with a straight road down towards the stadium (yes, I’d go there again…two more times) and the parkrun that I’d be doing the next day. That was essentially the start of a day of walking. I walked everywhere. Down to the Łazienki Royal Park (Warsaw’s biggest park and yes, I’ll use the word stunning once more), around the outside of the Legia Warsaw stadium, trips into the Old Town for a wander round Saxon Park (and to look longingly through the windows of the old hotel) into the market square for dinner and then a nice walk back to the Spa less, but very comfortable new hotel. As I look at the Apple Watch entry for Friday it tells me I did 43,776 steps and covered 34.8km. A relaxing, easy ‘rest day’…

Saturday morning I wake up early with a rare, sensible thought to fuel and hydrate before heading out. Bananas, Haribo bears, a Mars bar and some water later and I’m walking back down toward the Nardowy which is a stone’s throw from the Park Skaryszewski, the location of the city’s 1^st parkrun, Warszawa-Praga. It’s certainly the first time I’ve ever walked to parkrun past a nightclub that was still in full flow at 8am and I felt for the neighbours living upstairs from the clearly non-soundproofed venue. In hindsight, as nice as the walk was, I’m not sure I needed a 2 mile warm up in that heat, especially when I discovered the bus later in the day and it cost me the grand sum of 40p! I said hello and got my photo with the lovely volunteer team and spoke to a few fellow tourists from South Africa and Ireland. I’m not saying anything revelatory here, but the social side of parkrun is brilliant, you rock up to a park as a complete stranger and within a few minutes you get chatting to other runners. I ended up running with Ronan who was on holiday and we had a good blether about marathons and training as we ran round and I soaked up all the advice I could. I probably ran a bit quicker than I was intending (25.31) and it caught up with me later in the run, but I enjoy parkrun far more when I’m running with someone. A flat, potentially fast route of two and half loops with a nice long straight to finish…along with a wee bit of madeira cake to top up the fuel.

Waving goodbye to the team and runners in Skaryszewski park, another loop of the stadium (I’d go back later in the day for the full tour) and then south along the Vistula towards the Legia stadium that sits on the edge of the park. The heat along the river was brutal and I had to call on an emergency handful of congealed Haribo bears. Once in the park, the tree cover made it a bit easier although looking at the mile splits you can see me started to fade from 5 onwards. It certainly wasn’t conversational pace by the end so I know I’ll need to pace the longer runs better and I might need to stop trying to combine a parkrun into them, but I’ll see how it goes. There was a track beside the Legia sports centre, so a lap of that was added in, before taking in some of the landmarks of the park including the Chopin statue and finishing in the neighbouring Ujazdowski park to make sure Strava didn’t trick me out of my nine miles with an 8.9!

Devastated to find that the ice cream kiosk that I’ve strategically finished at is still not open, so headed to a shop where I bought about 5 litres of drinks to keep me company on the 2 mile walk back to the hotel. So 13 miles in the bank…before doing even more walking and sightseeing for the rest of the day. As I climbed into my bed on Saturday night ahead of a 3am alarm call, my watch told me we’d clocked up 49,596 and a ridiculous 42.3km…so there’s potentially a marathon in these chicken legs! Sunday? Sunday was definitely a rest day.

Are you still here? Wow, you deserve a medal for getting through this one, thanks for sticking with me! The patella straps for the knees are definitely working. It might be placebo, it might be a ‘comfort blanket’, but they feel…better. There’s still discomfort but they seem to give me a bit more support and reassurance, so we will stick with them. Week 4 includes my first race in a few years, the Milnathort Dash. It’s a great race organised by a local club and has an amazing post race buffet that usually includes some home baking. The route, especially in the heat, is a toughie, big uphill start (where they have a prize for the King and Queen of the Hill) and challenging first half, then an easier downhill second half. I have no plans to race it but I will try to run at a tempo a bit quicker than training runs (the plan fits perfectly, as a 5m tempo is included this week)…and I’ll try not to eat too much at the buffet. But I like buffets even more than I like stadiums, so no promises 😊

The Madrid Mojo

May 24, 2022 / Steven Birrell / Leave a comment

If I’d been writing this a month ago I think you’d have got a different post entirely. One that was full of ‘oh woe is me’ and a fair bit of negativity. The fear had crept in for the first time, not of the marathon distance itself but the fear that my knees, or one of them in particular, are not strong enough to withstand an 18 week training block. I have a good knee and a bad knee and when the good knee starts acting up, it gets in my head and plants a big old seed of doubt for good measure.

But I’m working on building it up and looking after it. I’ve started swimming most mornings before work and have come to accept, begrudgingly, that strength and conditioning, stretching and maybe the yoga that a lot of friends have encouraged me to do all need to become an integral part of the training, along with the running.

But last week there was no swimming, even though a pool would’ve been perfect as the temperatures hit 35. I was in Madrid with work, a city I’d never been to before but one which I can confirm is very runnable! So much so that my disciplined approach to 2-3 runs a week went right out the window and I ran every morning Monday-Friday including a 10k farewell tourist run of all the places I’d liked during the trip.

Whenever I’m going to new places, I scope out a map before I leave to see what routes are feasible from where I’m staying with the spare time that I have. I don’t make too many plans but I have a rough idea of where to head towards and then I take it from there. After I’ve run streets once, I’m pretty good at committing them to memory and don’t need a phone to navigate unless I start building on the routes. For me, running is the best way to explore new places, whether it’s cities or hills or trails and I was determined to use the mornings to see as much of Madrid as I could. Without sounding pessimistic, you never know if you’ll run these places again, so I got a bit greedy but going out every morning. Other than the aching knee as I plodded round Lochore Meadows parkrun on Saturday, Je Ne Regrette Nien.

As I walked through the streets on Sunday, there was an incredible atmosphere and the streets were packed as it was a holiday weekend. At midnight, families were still out enjoying themselves but come 7am as I headed out along the same route, I pretty much had the streets, the Royal Palace and the gardens all to myself! That said, there was a decent sized queue outside a pizza shop across from my hotel and I resisted the temptation to join them to carb load! As much as I like running in a group or racing in a pack, there is something special about a run in solitude…I just didn’t expect it to happen in one of Europe’s busiest capital cities. On two of the days, I ran in El Retiro which is just a stunning park. I’m convinced you could run in there for months and never take the same route twice. I tried to explore as best I could in the time that I had but there’s probably cool wee trails and landmarks that I missed. On one of the runs, I was greeted with a COME ON SCOTLAND as a fellow runner, and fellow Scot judging by the accent, spotted my Scotland football top as he ran past. The smile I had got bigger and I found a wee spring in my step for the run back to my digs. If you ever visit Madrid, El Retiro is a must see (and Casa Julio is a must go to for tapas – take my word for it).

I smiled during every run in the city. I remembered why I enjoy running so much, even when the knee tries to remind me it probably won’t be a long term love affair. But the run that made me smile the most was actually the shortest of the week; laps of the famous Santiago Bernabeu stadium. I jumped on the metro for the 2.5 mile trip north as I didn’t have as much time that morning as the others. As football fans on here will probably know, the stadium is currently undergoing a major refurbishment so I knew before I set off that I’d be turning up to a building site. Even still, I thought it would be cool to say I’d ran round the outside of it. The construction, plus all the roads and the busy pavements around it made it a bit stop start, but it was good fun and I managed a wee glimpse inside the stadium through a gate. And as I uploaded my run to Strava on the tube back (great signal underground) I burst out laughing as it proclaimed me the new LOCAL LEGEND of the Santiago Bernabeu…Anti-clockwise (respect to my clockwise counterpart!). Of all the greats that have graced that stage, it took just four laps and 20 minutes for wee Chicken Legs to earn legendary status!

So Madrid has definitely been good for the mojo and that’s pretty decent timing as the training block starts a week on Sunday! I’ll post the plan up once it’s finalised, if anything it might keep me honest. Last night I managed to get booked in for a sports massage and a bit work on the knee. I thought my quad was fine but quickly discovered last night that it was one big knot. There was not much smiling for 90 minutes last night, although I do have a habit of bursting out laughing when the pain really kicks in (I’m a strange wee guy) but I’m feeling good today.

The posts on here will become more frequent as the training kicks off (lucky you!)..but so will the sponsorship promos (you’ve been given fair warning here). The first 30 sponsors, whatever the amount, will metaphorically ‘join me on the run’ and be assigned a part of the route.

A huge thanks to everyone who has sponsored so far (my early pace setters!) I really appreciate it. A special shout out to Innes and the team at Elgin Motor Works garage in Rosyth who made a really generous donation and a big contribution towards my target. The team have done a great job at keeping my old car on the road these last few years and naturally, they are sponsoring the finish line. Hopefully with a bit maintenance, regular MOTs and decent fueling, this auld boy can keep himself on the road for the next 20 weeks!

Chicken Legs Runs…

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