Category Archives: Hope

Mile Twenty-Five

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My Mum (Liz, Elizabeth and Grandma), died on Wednesday 29th Dec. Only three months before, she had run in the London marathon but was pulled off the course at mile 19 – as we later found out she had advanced cancer in her bones. We have so much to be thankful for; she taught us how to be kind and somehow made everyone she met feel like royalty. We had precious time at home with her in her last three weeks. I am at peace that she is now at peace with Jesus, but it really aches. The tears are seasoned with gratitude. I wrote the following just before she died..

Mile Twenty-Five

Marathon Mum at mile twenty-five
Stopping to embrace the grandchildren
Asking the time of fellow runners
Glistening with care and a royal radiance

You set the pace and the tone
Treating everyone with grace
Seeing beyond schooling and position
Welcoming all with tea and time to listen

You had space for crying and craft
Home perfected by sticky glue and Swiss cows
Elegantly dressed with pearls, a blouse and muddy boots
Ready for adventures held in jars with string

You were scarcely frivolous but always generous
Budget pasties on the green, felt like a feast
Yet you couldn’t get enough sofas, sheep or little draws
And collected photos collated our lives

You have lived and taught us kindness
Rarely angry and always cross inspired
Full of thankyous, nothing too much
People first, kettle always warm

Elite Elizabeth, the final mile,
Still breaking your stride you care for us
Endurance Mum, last run home
Along The Mall and then your crown

Mum running the London Marathon 2021 at mile six. She was pulled off at mile 19 and shortly afterwards diagnosed with late-stage cancer in her bones. She died on 29 Dec 2021.

From This to That

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Some days the sky is regal blue and the seas are glassy still,
Walking in sun drenched paths hands clasped,
Moulding reality from hope-filled dreams,
Peace at last…

Is shattered by process,
Shards cutting tender skin,
Splinters pierce, torpedoed deep,
These days the darkening storm stirs the waters into chaos.

This raging ocean within my mind is hard to swim against.
Clumsy powers choking out the rediscovered joy of life.
Yet He comes walking the waters of my mind,
Leading me from this to that.

Storms stilling,
Grace leads me,
From this to that,
Resting in the King.

Not even chocolate cake

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We walked.

Just walked.

No words, lots of grumps and shrugs.

We walked with the dogs. He even manages to grump with them, pulling at the lead.

Maybe a treat would help unlock this conversation.

Coke and chocolate cakes – seems to have worked for years.

In fact we started while he was still in a pram. We sat in the coffee shop for over three hours. Chocolate cake in hand I fed him little peices and and every time said chocolate cake. Then it happen, his first words, “choc-choc-cake”. Brilliant Dad win.

But this time even chocolate cake does not seem to unlock a conversation. I drop in a couple of crafted coaching questions… nothing. No, more than nothing, anger, pain and a silent scream so loud that it hurts.

We walk home, still nothing.

But we have walked it out.

In the house, back hiding in his phone.

Then dinner, a bit lighter.

The evening ends with laughter and a hug. I tuck him in and pray for him, a privilege, given his teenage years.

No resolutions. Maybe another day? But at least we walked it out. At least I did not push him into forced talking.

This parenting thing is tough, but good.

Feet up, rest up.

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I am an activist. I would much rather be doing something rather than nothing. If I can be creating or organising then I feel at home. Even in my rest times I would rather be active. Walking, making something in the garage or my ideal, running. Part of the reason I love this sort of resting is that it gives me thinking and praying space.

When I was at collage we would have Wednesday morning lectures on spirituality. They were always followed by silence, hours of it. I would ache and scream. The quieter it was, the more I wanted to get up and shout something. But then one day the lecturer talked about finding rest and stillness in movement. Something clicked. He spoke about how some people needed to move in order to find that inner stillness that allows thoughts and concerns to surface. I was listening, he was describing me. Suddenly sneaking off for a run in the times that I was suppose to be silent and praying had been affirmed and I could finally make sense and find peace.

Almost 20 years on, the creativity and the running have become my go to place for resting. If every I get stuck or have had a stressful day, a few miles on the road and the days trouble are settled.

And yet….

There is another sort of rest that I have also learnt over time to embrace.

Just sitting and doing nothing.

Stopping, setting down.

Sleeping.

In the sun – the best rest.

That is what is needed today. Feet up, rest up.

(and planning a 13 mile run before the of the day…. but for now… sleep.)

No more prep, race day tomorrow.

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There comes a time when the training’s done and the running almost begun. Some last minute checks on the gear. Attaching numbers to vests and tags to shoes. Buying post run snack and pre run energy drinks.

One more sleep, if I can. Then an early train. The usual waiting and pacing before the off. But really there is nothing left todo. Just show up and run.

I am so grateful for all the encouragement and the huge generosity of every supporter. CUF do such great work in some of the poorest communities, thanks for helping change lives.

It will be amazing to run tomorrow, the cheer of the London crowd leaves a precious mark on the heart. But more than that, it is such a privilege to run with my brother (almost 50) and mum who is 75! Some how she manages to look almost regal, even after 26.2 miles.

Someone sent me this verse from the bible:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us!

So apt for a marathon, just wish I could have lay aside a little more weight, then I would stand a chance of running a little faster. But it’s even more true of life. We have to leave some things behind and run the race before us.

If you have not yet had the chance to sponsor me, there is still time:

https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/marksearlelondon2018

Marathon Training Benchmark

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Having done a few of these before, I am very away of how the structured marathon training changes you physically over time. During the summer I have put on a little weight as I had to ease up from running because of a tendon injury. I forgot to adjust the diet and just kept eating, not so clever. However because of this I am expecting the training to have a very noticeable effect. I will save you from the usual before and after photos (unless someone sponsors me loads) and just give core data as a benchmark.

Current Fitness Level 29th Oct 2017 – mostly taken from Garmin 235 data.

Average Resting Heart Rate (over 7 days): 62 bpm

Weight: 208.6 lbs (Nov 2016 I was 189, that’s the effect of not running and continuing to eat the same)

Waist size: 38 1/2 inches

10k Time: 51(ish) as I was running with dog (PB was this year 44.41 on 26th Feb 2017)

VO2 Max: 46 (Feb this year I have been at 52, so quite a bit of a drop in fitness)

Let’s see what happens over the next 5 1/2 months.

Autumn Hope – learning to see

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Autumn has been exploded by the passing summer.

The same colours, but magnified a thousand times over.

Nature, but zoomed in.

 

This time of year used to overwhelm me.

Fading colours, greying sky.

Life withdrawing, sap hiding, the slow death of autumn.

 

As if working through a familiar gallery.

Seeing for the first time the dusty old masters.

This time drawn into there beauty.

 

Summer pinks fade and fall.

Replaced by a spectrometer of pre-drop glory.

The earth awash with brilliant browns.

 

Something’s shifted.

Same season, but…

Now I see hope extravagantly painted everywhere.