This is the first of my little guest blogs around the theme Hope is Important. It’s all so, so shit out there at the moment, so I’ve asked people to send me their stories of hope, and how running has helped change their lives, and some examples of the hope that we all need to hold close to us right now. The first one comes from Paul Dukes, and nearly made me do a cry. It’s a story of patience and consistency in a time when everything was in doubt. We all need to try and have patience and consistency while we can.

If you want to send me a story that we can use to help and inspire others, contact details are at the bottom of the page. Take care and be kind.

My name is Paul and I am mid 30's sales rep from Bristol UK. Several years ago after spending too long lifting weights at the gym I damaged my back. 2 discs/3 Vertebrae. After lots of physiotherapy I was able to return to some sort of fitness. Spending my professional life sat in a car driving around I am not hugely active and consequently I gained a lot of weight. Around this time my partner Michelle and I were open to the idea of starting our own family. I decided I didn't want to be a fat dad and set about changing things.

*Paul coming out the washer. Literally.*

Being asthmatic I have always discounted running. This time I wanted to try and get somewhere. I started with a couch to 5k app. The first run had me coughing and spluttering but it was a start. Several months later I managed to complete it, so set myself a goal of a 10k run. I choose my home city of Bristol and entered the 10k not knowing what to expect.

Standing on a start line with thousands of people, runners and athletes made me feel something I generally don't get. Nervous. Then, as now I don't class myself as a runner. The feeling of running in a pack was exhilarating. My very first 10k event was sub 55 minutes and I was pleased with my efforts.

I did a few more 10k's and started to enjoy things. A friend then asked if i would do an OCR. I said yes, and we did a couple. I got hooked!! I felt like I was OK at running, but the physicality of obstacles was reminiscent of days lifting weights. It all culminated in an event called the Rat Race Dirty Weekend. A gruelling 20 mile 200 obstacle event dubbed the largest in the world.

Dirty Weekend was epic! The euphoria of finishing an event like that knowing that only 18 months or so before hand I was literally starting one foot in front of the other. During the event, I cramped really hard at the 7 mile mark. I pushed on but ultimately, I did do damage. I got post tib tendinitis, and it also led to a torn spring ligament. After more physio, and several hospital appointments I got back to things and new shoes were needed.

Back on my feet again, I started pounding in the miles pushing up the distances. I would go running where and when I could. I completed the Dirty Weekend again the following year (2017). After 20 miles I jumped straight in the car drove home and ran the Bristol 10k the very next day. Running was becoming easier and I wanted more challenges.

Dirty Weekend offer a 2 lap variant called the dirty double, 40 miles and 400 obstacles. I came home to my partner and said that one day I would love to do it. To my surprise she booked it. Giving me my ultimate challenge. 12 months to get in the best shape of my life and do what seems only a dream. An ultra! (Ish)

Michelle feel pregnant not long into my training. I tried to help where I could. It meant I ran late at night, head torch on and ear phones in. It really was an arduous task, but I had a goal and I wanted to give it everything. I had to succeed, mentally pushing myself, engraining on my brain that things CAN be achieved if you work for them.

To bring it back to the start, our baby daughter rushed into the world New Years day. She was very premature being born at 28 weeks. Everything was all very sudden. She was sent straight to ICU and I knew there was a long road ahead of us.

*“Everything was all very sudden” - Paul with his premature baby girl.*

After 12 weeks in hospital, my daughter Elizabeth came home. Daily visits across town to see her and care for her took it’s toll both mentally and physically. Finding that light at the end of the tunnel was extremely difficult. She was only 2.5lb when she was born, so needed to stay in hospital whilst she grew. She’s doing great now - a testament to the hardworking staff of the NHS.

While she was in hospital it was a huge struggle to keep pace with life and try and keep some sort of training going. But I did. Just. Although training took a back seat to everything else, I got in what I could. Even running home from the hospital when I could.

May 12th rolled around and I did get to start the Dirty Weekend 40 mile OCR. I was definitely under trained, but wanted to give it my best.

The weather was warm to start and I had a friend pace me for the first lap. We were doing ok. I started to get GI problems early on, but they subsided with time. I also cramped hard during a water section. My right leg was spasming and had to slow and stretch it off. We nearly completed the first 20 mile lap and I was feeling OK. Very near the end of the lap is a travelator obstacle. I powered up it and immediate fell down, losing my legs beneath me.

Both my legs cramped really hard again and I couldn't move. My running partner immediately jumped into action and helped. A photographer caught the anguish.

After a few minutes I could stand again and carried on. I made transition and fuelled for the unknown. Having made the cut off with 15 minutes to go, I didn't think I would survive the next lap but wanted to go as far as I could. I set off alone and kept a steady pace. The emotions of that lap were something I’ll never forget. The euphoric highs of running a distance I hadn't done before, the absolute pain I was in - it was all there. The emotions of the past few months caught up with me. If my daughter could fight then so would I. A few tears nearly made it past my eyes.

My final time was 10 hours 40 minutes. I was happy enough just to finish but came in mid pack of the finishers. I had my gold medal.

I'm not done with running yet. I still have goals. I have my eyes set firmly on some longer distances. But for now I'm going back to training, and being a dad. If I can run, then anyone can.

*I don’t like babies, but she is super cute - well done Paul!*

If you have a story that you think can help inspire other people to get through this pretty shitty time and get outside, then please send it to me here with a couple of pictures. It really does make a difference.

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