Tag Archives: Vicar

Greg Rutherford’s Lucky Escape

28 May

In the final run up to my triathlon, I’ve had a sinus infection. My nose has been in pain and inflamed, putting my last minute training in jeopardy. After waiting for over a week for my immune system to kick in and fight the infection, I was forced to dose myself up with antibiotics to try to get back on track. With the help of a nasal spray I could finally breathe through my nose on Saturday. In fact I felt the best I’d felt in days. I didn’t go training but I did get up early and headed down to Taurus to secure my tickets to the Paradise Factory club’s 20th Anniversary reunion. In the 90s, so many of my weekends were spent dancing nights away on the 3 floors of Paradise Factory. I loved it. Lifelong friends were made and nothing came close to the atmosphere. I met up with my old house mate, Avers and we went down to Village in plenty of time. The queue was already building up over an hour and half before the tickets were available.  You could feel the excitement in the air amongst those queuing, very reminiscent of youthful days gone by but with a few more grey hairs and maybe an extra pound or two.


photo (1)

The sun was shining on Canal Street and it screamed for a long boozy afternoon in the warmth with good friends. However I had the Manchester 10km the next day and jobs to do, not least picking up my bike from the cycle shop, all nicely serviced in time for the triathlon, so after a couple of soft drinks I said goodbye to the old and new faces.

The next day I still felt ok, not 100% fit yet but the antibiotics had been working, so I set off to do the 10Km with my boyfriend Adam. The sun was glorious, great for a lazy Sunday in the garden, a little too hot for a 10km run. I’d eaten porridge a couple of hours earlier, felt fully hydrated and ready to go. As we set off we managed to high 5 Greg Rutherford as we ran past him, nothing better than an Olympic Gold Medallist to motivate you. I felt great.


Within 5 minutes of running, my other half and his incredibly small bladder had to stop for a comfort break just after the first kilometre. I knew with the sun, my infection and his bladder, a personal best was looking unlikely. However, we got running again and were keeping a nice pace, the support was loud, generous and appreciated. At about 6km my stomach started to feel a bit dodgy, I carried on but slowed my pace. I felt sick. The heat was becoming a real problem and there were no more water stations. Adam decided that I was slacking and started screaming at me to put more effort in at 7km. There were jelly babies and he offered me an energy gel but the thought of it made me feel even more nauseous so I said no to both. At 8km he decided that if Jillian Michaels was screaming at me I’d put in the effort and would have increased my pace.  He did his best to motivate me by being tough, but as he was my other half and I wasn’t feeling good, he got a few choice words. I had run out of energy and was just hoping to get to the end of the race without being sick. The last 200m is up a slight incline with crowds on either side. I felt like I was running through treacle. As the finishing line got closer, I remember thinking “thank god I can stop and get some water.” My body must have realised we were finally at the end and my stomach retched. I tried to moved to the side as a consideration to the runners behind and if it wasn’t for the quick actions of a St John’s Ambulance woman at the line rushing to give me a plastic bag, I would have puked on the feet of…Greg Rutherford. Hardly the Olympic Legacy I’d had in mind.

My time wasn’t my best, in fact it was my worst time over 10km at 1hour 5 minutes but I finished it without killing my boyfriend in the process, so we’ll mark it down as a win.

I always have admiration for the mad folk who dress in crazy outfits but even more so on this sweltering, hot day. I caught up with my friend Mike who is a vicar and ran in his full cassock, raising money for the early years’ department at the local primary school where we are both governors. Towards the end of the race, he stopped to help give first aid to a woman, who had collapsed around the 8km mark. I’m not sure how she felt about being given first aid by a vicar in his full clerical garb, she might have panicked about how serious her condition was.

After catching up with Mike, I popped across to the Roman fort where my sister and her family were relaxing after the race. Here we are together proudly wearing our medals.

Well done Manchester for putting on another fabulous race, well done runners for your sporting achievements and an even bigger well done for all the fundraisers collecting money for a plethora of deserving causes.