Torrent of tears on day of lows & highs
As a challenge in lieu of a race, I decided last week to try to run 100 miles in 24 hours in three-mile loops around the block non-stop.
The furthest I’d run before was 67 miles.
But it was a day of lows and highs as, just before I started, I was told my friend Lloyd, who I’d always called my prostate cancer twin, had died from this terrible disease, aged 49.
So off I set with tears streaming down my face, thinking about Lloyd and his young family.
As the miles ticked by, I started to remember the good times we’d had, walking marathons with Jeff Stelling, and meeting up at Harrogate Town FC when I was doing one of my solo prostate cancer marches, plus joint media work to raise awareness of this indiscriminate cancer.
I was running too fast, but it was a way of releasing my frustration at a life taken too early.
The distraction of a few friends kindly joining me for the odd lap and, in particular, Rob, who turned up nine hours in to run with me until I finished, gave me a chance to talk about my sadness.
As dusk fell, about 100 amazing people in my road came out and stood on their front drives to clap and pot-bang as I ran past. More tears.
By 2am, earlier niggles in my knee and calf were too painful for drugs to touch. I was worn out. An hour later, I started to be quite ill. Sadly, I reluctantly decided to call it a day.
While I’d only run for 17 hours, I had managed 78 miles (three back-to-back marathons) and raised more money and awareness of prostate cancer. Later that day, I struggled to my front door as more than 30 people in my road had come out to run a mile each to exceed my target of 100 miles. Yet more tears. RIP Lloyd. Until next week
Kev
I ran too fast as a way of releasing my frustration at a life taken too early