One sunny morning last November, I ran in a direction I hadn't run in before. I crossed a field, ran down a slope and found myself on a canal. A couple of miles on, I saw a sign. “Birmingham 137 miles,” it said. “Grand Union Canal”.
The canal had come along at the very time when was I looking for a running challenge. Not a race. Just something to do alone. Something for my 60th birthday the following May. I told my personal trainer about the canal. He scribbled away on a bit of paper for a few seconds. Then turned it round to show me. 48 miles of running over 4 consecutive days. At the time, I thought he'd taken leave of his senses.
But yesterday, I completed that challenge. Somehow, over the last 11 months, I've gone from running 15 miles in 7 days to running 48 miles in 4 days. I built the mileage slowly, week by week. Much of it run on the Grand Union. As time went by, I fell in love with the canal. I bought a book. I researched its history. I developed a guided walk for friends. I joined a Grand Union Canal Facebook group.
My training didn't go according to plan. I caught a virus that knocked me out for 3 weeks. And spent a further 5 building back up to where I had been. Then the hotels got closed. So I ditched the idea of running the section of the canal from Milton Keynes to Ealing and decided to stick to the local bit. I developed a niggle in my hamstring and reduced my mileage for a while. A new date was set. And abandoned. I got a pain in my a calf and couldn’t train at all. It got better. A stick flew up jabbed into my ankle while I was out training along the Thames. I sat with my leg in the air for two weeks waiting for the swelling to subside.
Three weeks ago, my trainer and I decided that I would start the run on the 4th October (his birthday rather than mine). The day approached. And the rain came down. The canal tow path got flooded. I ran my challenge around the streets and parks of Ealing. With only a small section on the canal on the last day. The Grand Union remains unrun.
Last night, I was lying in bed. And I remembered that sign. Birmingham 137 miles. And I knew that I wanted to run it all. Not in one go. And not as a challenge. But for the fun of it.