I stopped running seriously when I was in my late 20s. Not that I ever ran seriously, but I had just begun to think about it. I fancied the idea of running a marathon. I’ve always had excellent heart and lung function that has enabled me to build up aerobic stamina very, very quickly. I shall reach my 60th birthday in two months time, in July 2020. Although I’ll never get back to the natural fitness I enjoyed way back in the 1980s, where I smashed the 40-minute barrier in the Cardiff 10K with barely any training, I can consider myself to be very lucky indeed to be able to run long distances with very little aerobic effort at a relatively advanced age.
That Cardiff 10K was the last ‘serious’ run I did until recent times. I developed a knee problem – or so I thought. Let’s just say that I developed a problem that manifested itself in my right knee. I became unable to run more than about a mile without the pain gradually increasing until it became unbearable. After an exploratory knee operation (an arthroscopy), no problem could be found in the joint. My local GP (who was, at the time, the Welsh football team doctor) told me that it was more than likely all down to tightness. He turned out to be right, but I misunderstood that statement. I interpreted his words as meaning that the knee joint, itself, was too tightly constructed, thereby restricting its movement. Apart from the occasional attempt, just to see if anything had changed, I gave up on running for over thirty years, unaware that the solution to the problem was relatively simple.
Let’s now fast-forward to two years ago – the early summer of 2018. Nothing had changed. I set about altering my running technique as it had been brought to my attention that I’d been heel-striking. I was told that I was landing on my heels first and creating too much impact with each stride – effectively putting on the brakes. I set about changing this. Initially, my heart and lungs struggled with running just half a mile. This was a massive psychological blow. I’d lost all of my natural stamina through lack of use. But my ageing body didn’t let me down. After only seven weeks, I managed a ten-mile run in just over two hours. A seemingly unlikely achievement for a 58-year-old, but my ability to build up stamina hadn’t let me down. However, there was a downside. Having not allowed my body to build up enough muscular strength to protect my joints over the course of only seven weeks, this kind of distance proved to be too much of a strain on my hips. Due to a hip injury, this was the last time I was able to run for about ten weeks.
The frustration was compounded by the fact that I had now applied for the London Marathon in April 2019. It was during my overzealous ‘couch to ten miles in just seven weeks’ episode, that a seed was planted in my mind. April 2019 was to be the time that I would celebrate the 10th anniversary of my brain haemorrhage in 2009. It was after I’d managed five laps of the perimeter of Wembley Stadium (about 5 km) in 29°C midday heat, while staying at a nearby hotel, that I had the notion of applying for a charity place in the London Marathon to raise money for The Brain and Spine Foundation. I called them that afternoon and filled out my online application. They’d let me know in October if I had a place. But only a few weeks later, after doing too much too soon, my hip injury had stopped me from running altogether.
I joined a gym and worked tirelessly on building up the relevant muscles and taking anti-inflammatory tablets, occasionally doing a short run to test out my hip. Gradually, I reached the point where I could run with no hip pain whatsoever. In fact, my hips felt more robust than ever, as I’d been aware previously that there was a potential issue which I’d hoped would go away.
October came and my place in the London Marathon was confirmed. I was going to be looking for a time of around five hours. As I began to increase my miles in training, the original injury that had prevented me from running over 30 years ago began to creep back. The more I trained, the worse it became. The worse it became, the less I could train. I embarked on a walk/run strategy to help me increase my miles. It was now apparent that five hours was becoming more and more unlikely. Three different physiotherapists advised me that the problem was down to tightness of the muscles in my legs.
When you’re running long distances, your leg muscles automatically tighten. This can cause pain and inflammation in the knee. The more suppleness you have in these muscles, the less likely you are to suffer this kind of knee injury. I stretched as much as I could, using exercises that had been recommended to me by a physiotherapist. After a frustrating build up to the big day, I became resigned to walking the first half of the 26.2 miles, followed by walk/run for the rest of the distance. I was hoping for about six and a half hours. As long as I completed it, that was all that really mattered, as I had £2,600 in sponsorships resting on it.
The Marathon…
After walking for most of the first 12 miles, I reached Tower Bridge. Buoyed by the spectacle and the crowds, I decided to run its entire length. The crowd seemed to be amazed at a backmarker having such pace. Rapturous applause and cheers accompanied me to the other side of the bridge. Then I started walking again. I could feel the pain in my right knee emerging and gradually increasing. Once it starts, I know it’s the beginning of the end. If I were running locally, this is the point at which I would normally stop. But I was doing The London Marathon and I had 14 miles to go. I wasn’t planning on stopping, no matter how much pain I was in. The pain became worse and my spirits dropped.
What if I stop and do some stretching exercises? I found a post and did just that. What happened next was the beginning of my new findings relating to curing my injury problems. When I continued, the pain disappeared and I was able to progress a little further, albeit still only walking. Gradually the pain came back, becoming worse and worse. I’d stop and stretch again. The pain would go away, temporarily. By the time I’d reached the last six miles or so, even the stretching wasn’t enough to stop the pain. By this time, my left knee had joined in with the torment. I hobbled and hobbled and stopped and stretched and hobbled some more and stretched some more. It was purely an endurance of severe pain rather than an endurance of aerobic stamina. When I reached The Mall, about 50 metres from the finish line, I decided to run. To Hell with the pain. I was going to run over that line, no matter what. It took me 7 hours and 32 minutes from beginning to end. I got my medal. I earned my sponsorship money.
I was told that Mo Farah took part in the same race. However, I’m not convinced, as I did the whole 26.2 miles and I didn’t see him once.
Because of the subsequent severe inflammation in my knees from the Marathon, even after two months, I couldn’t even manage to run a kilometre. Gradually, month by month, I was able to my increase distance slightly. On New Year’s Day 2020, I did a 5 km Parkrun. I had to drop out after just 2.5 km because of the pain. I didn’t run again for a while. About four months later, during Coronavirus lockdown, I started going out running again. Occasionally, I’d manage 4 or 5 km. Then, inexplicably, I might only be able to manage 2 km.
I cast my mind back to the London Marathon, and how the stretching helped to ease the pain. The importance of stretching before and after a run is well understood amongst runners. But stretching during a run isn’t something that is often spoken of. Clearly, once the muscles and tendons begin to tighten, something rubs against something or other (help me out here some doctor, please), causing friction, inflammation and pain. Once the inflammation starts, you know that the distance of your run is going to be limited. If you stretch to stop the friction, it is only a matter of time before it starts again, but getting worse. The damage has already begun and you are now dealing with damage limitation. But what if…
… what if I were to stop and stretch for 20 or 30 seconds before the tightening had a chance to cause any friction and inflammation – let’s say, after the first kilometre? Stopping and stretching for no particular reason except to keep the moving parts separated. Then, after another kilometre, stop and stretch again, repeating this continually throughout the run. Instead of damage limitation, you are now preventing any damage from occurring in the first place. Immediately, I was able to comfortably manage 5 km on one day; the following day I completed 10 km; then, a few days later, a whopping great 15.2 km (9,4 miles) with no pain whatsoever! Obviously, I was slowed down by the time taken to stop and stretch, but at least I was able to continue on my journey without any significant pauses.
So this is how I run now. I’ve done a couple more long runs and had no issues whatsoever. My running life seems to have changed at the flick of a switch, confident that I can prevent the onset of the pain I’ve endured simply by stopping and stretching occasionally. I know I’ll never be a great competitor, but I’m a brain haemorrhage surviving 60-year-old (well, nearly) and I don’t have anything to prove to anyone. I just want to be able to enjoy the exhilarating freedom that I feel when I’m running, without the restrictions or pressures of injury or potential injury. Who knows, I may even be able to run my next marathon.
MARK D PRITCHARD writes... 