Marathon Day is a difficult day, but today is a day to celebrate

Last weekend, I did the first of a few back-to-back long runs that I've got lined up - this is good for ultra training, because you run a long way but by having a bit of a break over the night, it reduces the risk of injury, plus it gets you used to (in theory) getting up and running while you're tired, which is a must on a big long ultra.

So on Saturday, we set off bright and early (really just early, but I was still optimistic at this point), for The Chilterns, which was the setting of a really awful run I did a few weeks ago, so I was already trying to quell a feeling of dread that today was going to be just as bad. It turned out not to be though. It didn't snow for a start, and we had a new map, so we didn't get lost and end up running around in a circles in a forest in the dark (which believe it or not, is not only possible less than a mile from the M40, but is a genuinely a terrifying thing to happen, should you find yourself in that situation). These are all good things. We even knocked off 1.5 hours off from last time (mostly down to the lack of the aforementioned dark forest incident), and that included a half an hour stop in a pub. 

There were flowers...

 

And hills....

And even Storm Doris couldn't get in the way...

I was feeling quite pleased with myself.

Which, as we all know, doesn't last for long.

The next day, Sunday, was the 26th February.....26.2.......Marathon Day!

Buoyed by my successful facing of fears yesterday, I was ready for anything. Or, as it turned out, anything other than the Marathon Day Marathon. 13 laps of staring some of my old demons straight in the face, for a full 4:24 hours, which on reflection, is a rubbish way to spend a Sunday, especially having paid for it.

I had planned to run at an easy pace to start with, and just relax and see how it went. I told Andrew to leave me, which sounds more dramatic than I meant, but he was kind, and said we would run together, as he was 'just training with a pack today so didn't mind going slowly' (excuse me?). Anyway, due to my fault of basically not being good at being more forceful in communicating my wishes, our paces were't quite aligned, and we spent the first half of the race being slightly apart with Andrew running ahead and me trying to catch up, and him slowing down, and then speeding up, and me trying to catch up. Eventually, Andrew went ahead, at which point I felt totally *@?$ at being rubbish at not being good enough, plus my legs were a bit tired from going faster than I wanted to to start with, and all at once all of the fears that used to haunt me when I was younger all came right back, conveniently right at the same time that I reached the corner of the track that turned square on into the oncoming wind, which knocked me fair sideways. All my fears of being left behind and realising I wasn't good at running just like I wasn't good at any other sport, that everyone was better than me, that I was no good, all came flooding back, and I found it hard to breath and keep my head from spinning.

It was quite a shock to be honest, I wasn't expecting to spend time with these thoughts; that hasn't happened in a long time. I just tried to keep moving forwards, and in a couple of minutes, the track had turned slightly out of the wind, and things seemed to calm down a bit, both in the air and in my head.

I carried on a while longer, and just tried not to think about things too much, and just run round in circles, which basically was all that I had to do today after all, and I got back into more of my own rhythm. Then as I was finishing my lap 9, the winner, who won in 2:57, overtook me and finished just as I was crossing the line, and everyone was cheering him and saying how amazing he was and clapping him on the back, as I got my card stamped, and carried on up the hill for another 4 laps, because I wasn't amazing, because I hadn't finished yet, and I still had another eight (eight) miles to go. Then, as I was finishing my next lap, the man who came second did exactly the same thing as the first man. And all the negative thoughts came back, and I won't lie, there was a moment, a really long moment, where I wanted to throw in the towel there and then. Perhaps it was just out habit (I was on lap 10 by now after all), or perhaps because I didn't have a towel to hand that I could throw, but I took back my little card, and now with just (ha!) three laps to go, carried on up the hill again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

It wasn't my finest moment, and I was annoyed with myself for letting thoughts, which really I know aren't true, get the better of me. But I feel a bit stronger now, knowing that even feeling totally rock bottom mentally, and pretty pants physically too, that I still managed to keep going and ran, albeit slower than liked, all the way. And now I have a huge medal to remind me of that forever. And the medal even has a bottle opener incorporated into it, so even if I might need a drink to get over the memories brought back by looking at the medal, at least I will be able to open it.

Then a few days later, this arrived (which just arriving in itself was exciting, as I never get post)....

A Marathon Day Survival Kit! What a present!!! I was made up and totally touched! I love it so much, that I don't want to use it.....although..... OK, yes, I can't wait to use it, it's ace! Thanks Mum and Dad.

And, yesterday, my Mum finished her radiotherapy, and is all better. So today is a day to celebrate all the good things that abound, and for good thoughts to be thought, and for a spring in our steps.

Happy weekend all!

The Punchbowl Marathon is a Jaw Dropper

The Punchbowl Marathon - 12th February 2017
After a long winter's training in the glorious British weather, which gets a bit grating after a while, the first proper event of the new year always makes it seem like spring is here - hurrah! Lots of people in brightly coloured clothes (one of the best things about running is that full body neon Lycra is a completely acceptable choice of outfit) all gathered together in the grey murky landscape, like little spring flowers bursting through the mud. The excited buzz of a village hall full of people ready to walk/ run/ organise a challenge, bursts of laughing, calls to familiar faces, the smell of coffee wafting around.....that's when you know all those cold dark winter miles were worth it.

I'm talking of course of the fabulous Punchbowl Marathon, a 30 mile (or 20, if you prefer) event organised by the Surrey LDWA, which is always a great start to kick the year off with. Did it last year, and it was such a beautiful day, and a lovely event, and it was on Valentines Day, so everything was very romantic (that last bit isn't true). This year, the forecast was pretty terrible, and I had that horrible apprehensive feeling that you might be about to ruin a perfectly good memory by doing something again, and being disappointed by the second experience. No though, the weather actually turned out to be pretty nice. Well, relatively nice compared to my expectations, compared to the Caribbean of course it wasn't nice at all, but anything less than a blizzard in my mind.

All was going swimmingly, I was remembering the route from last year and not getting lost (hurrah!), the weather was alright, I felt quite fit, and we were running a pretty good pace and on track to do it quicker than last year. Then, we got lost, and I had a mini-meltdown (Andrew! I'm sorry!) Looking back, I can see it could have been seen as an over-reaction, I mean it's not like I'm not used to being lost, and it's not like its the worst thing that could ever happen. Still, at the time, it was the worst thing that had happened. Ever.

After 10 minutes or so of stomping around trying to figure things out, we retraced our steps back uphill (uphill, yes) to the last place we had been where we were sure we were on the route. And then carried on from there, and soon it all made sense, and we caught some other runners. Soon after, we came across our friend Gary, and soon after that we came across my cousin Sammy and had a good chat. So there you go, if we hadn't got lost (or, taken a different route to get to the same point, as more eloquently described by Sammy), then we wouldn't have met them, so everything indeed does happen for a reason. And we got a hill and extra 1/2 a mile in, both for free.

Apart from the little melt-down, I really enjoyed the run. It's a beautiful part of the world, met lots of nice people and had a good run. And knocked 9 minutes off the time from last year. And even better, a good chat with friends over hot food after a day out in the cold. And absolutely to top it all off there were jammy dodgers at the end. I'd run anywhere for a jammy dodger....

The Jaw Dropper - 18th February 2017

6 days later and it was time for the equally fabulously named Jaw Dropper run on the Thames Path....

Whatever you do, don't go into the water.

Good, that's the obvious pun out of the way. This run is organised by Phoenix Running who organise loads of awesome races throughout the year, and is ace, I was so excited to be back down at my favourite place to run, along the River! It was the most beautiful day, bright sunshine and blue skies. Since the Punchbowl, I'd caught man flu (it's terrible, terrible), and was struggling a bit with the old breathing, but I covered myself in Vicks, and dipped a tissue in it for good luck, which I sniffed throughout the run to keep the old tubes clear (I guess that's probably counted as a performance enhancing drug, but whatever, it worked). 

The run was a 6 hour timed event, and is laps of 5km, so you can basically do as many as you want within the 6 hours. And everyone is doing different distances and has different goals, so I absolutely love these runs because there's no stress about them at all, it's like a giant family all running up and down the river and smiling at each other, and everyone just doing whatever on earth they want to really. And there's a Tuck Shop each lap, where as well as getting a hair-bobble for each lap you complete (I've got a whole load of these at home, dammit, I should have sneaked a couple in), there is a whole tent full of goodies to power you round the next lap. So many in fact, that you're gonna need a bigger boat to carry them all.

Sorry.

I don't know any more Jaws quotes, so I think we're safe now.

Anyway, it was a brilliant day, saw some familiar faces, and just really enjoyed running, even with man flu, I felt much stronger in my body and mind than I have in a long time. I did 10 laps, 32.8 miles, and got an awesome medal.

 

In dedication to my 100 training, I also walked 8 miles during the rest of the day (so 40 miles altogether), and met my good friend Susie at Wagamama's for tea (as refuelling and relaxing is just as an important a part of training as any other - I've just added that bit in to all the serious sounding programmes I've been reading on the internet).

The only frightening thing about the day was that I got home and took my trainers out of my bag, and a spider jumped out.

I don't think it's the water we need to be worried about to be honest, dry land seems just as dangerous in these parts. 

Stay safe, looking out for both sharks and spiders.

January

I don't know what to say about January training, other than that I don't like it. It's cold, it rains (or even snows, if you're lucky), it's icy, everywhere is muddy, and it's dark all the time. And it's cold. Oh, I already said that.

I had a conversation with a physio once, because as well as all the above I was also injured in January (while training for one of my first marathons), which of course made everything a million times worse. I was seeing the physio because I had a problem with my sciatic nerve getting trapped, because I wasn't doing any core strengthening exercises at all, so all my posture was all out of kilter, resulting in my nerve getting trapped somewhere. Anyway, I'm not sure why that's relevant. Oh yes, it's because she was doing loads of massaging on the area, which I can confidently say was the most painful thing that has ever happened to me in my life (and I was actually paying for it), and so I felt justified in moaning about things.

Me: I hate winter training. Why is the London Marathon in the spring? Can't they have it in the autumn, so we could train over the summer instead?

Gill (physio): But if you didn't have a marathon to train for in the spring, then you wouldn't do any training at all over the winter, would you.

Me: No

pause

Gill: Sooooo.... that's great then that it's in the spring, because it gets you out training when otherwise your wouldn't, and you maintain your fitness all over the winter. Imagine starting again in the spring after not keeping it up over the winter.

Me: I suppose so. 

Pause

Me: But it's so cold outside. 

Slight pause

Me: AAARRRGGGHHHHH (as Gill jabs deep into somewhere in my back that I didn't even know was there)

I've never forgotten that conversation, never. Most likely as it was so painful. But I think about it every winter, every time I lace up my trainers on a cold dark evening, and I know she was right.

So, fast-forward a few years to this January. I have almost gone the other way now, and I want there to be races to do during winter. And there are. A lot. It's just I seemed to have real trouble this year finding ones that I could make it to, and finding ones with spaces available. Things seem to be really booked up this year, which is good I suppose that the sport is getting more popular. So anyway, the end of the matter was that there weren't any proper events that I could do in January. 

So I made up a few myself, and with Andrew in January I did 3 marathons and 2 ultras (36 miles each). Towards the end of the month, I had a little bit of a set back mentally and physically, but then I thought about things and noticed that I hadn't ever actually run that many long runs all so close together before, so I stepped back a bit.  And there were a few other things going on too, which was all getting a bit overwhelming and I was finding it difficult to manage my mood, so I remembered my SMART goals from last year, and remembered the need to break things down into little pieces and take one thing at once. It's funny, writing it down, how simple that seems, but actually it makes such a big difference for me. So I'm feeling much better now, like I'm in control of things again. And as well as running, I've started walking a lot more too, day-to-day (lie the 3 miles to work) and a couple of longer walks too, which seems to be helping with my stamina, and I'm really enjoying too. And I've started yoga again (after I got better from the sciatic nerve thing, I vowed to myself never to neglect my core and end up in that pickle again).

So, here are a few snaps from the January runs:

07.01.17: from home along the river to Putney - along the river to Richmond - around Richmond Park - back along the river to Putney (36 miles)

My favourite FAVOURITE route (even in winter!)

14.01.17: Gary's route around the Chilterns (26 miles)

Did someone mention it was cold?

21.01.17: Marathon at home from Chorley to Rivington, up Winter Hill and back (26.2 miles)

A new friend!

22.02.17: Same route as yesterday (26.2 miles)

The best part about hills.....the views! 

29.02.17: from home along the river to Putney - along the river to Richmond - around Richmond Park - back along the river to Putney (36 miles)

Scary how high the river gets at high tide!

And now, here we are in February. It's still cold, it's still raining, and it's still muddy. But it was light today when I left work! 

Here's to spring.....

Old Year's Resolutions

Well, it's January the 6th, and it's time to confess. I haven't joined a gym, gone on a detox (but don't get me started on that), forever given up chocolate or wine, promised to stop swearing, or vowed to be a better person. I haven't set a New Year's Resolution! Not one!

Last year, for the first time in the whole history of my whole life, I managed to keep both of my New Year's resolutions. So I thought, a) that was hard work, so I'm having a year off, and b) I enjoyed them so much I'm going to keep up with them, but now I suppose that technically they are Old Year's resolutions (which doesn't have quite the same positive sounding ring to it). 

It being the first time in 30 (ok, 30ish...oh, who's counting anymore anyway?) years, I've managed to resolutely resolve to stick to my resolutions for 365 entire days, I paused to ponder, why this sudden, unexpected success?

Usually, my New Year's resolutions are decidedly vague. "I will be a better runner", for example. Well super, good for you, but how can you tell if you've become a better runner? What does it mean? That you're faster, or run further, or run even in the rain, or will compete at the Olympics, or will enjoy it more? Too vague. So how can you tell if you've acheived it? You can't. Then it's easy to get demotivated, and wonder what the point is, and eventually give up. I'll never be a better runner, so I'll just carry on as usual.

Not last year! Last year, I made my resolutions SMART, oh yes I did.  SMART.

Specific. Measurable. Achievable. Realistic. Timed.

Alright, smarty pants (I hear you cry!). What were your Old Year's resolutions? And why are they so smart anyway? 

Resolution 1: I will train for a 100 mile event in May, sensibly and without getting injured, and complete the event within 46 hours
Specific - yes
Measurable - definitely 
Achievable - we'll find out 
Realistic - ?!?! But 5 months to train does seem realistic I suppose
Timed - yes, I have to do it in May,  and we'll get timed when we do it

Resolution 2: I am going to have reached my all time total of 50 marathons by the end of the year
SMART - pretty much the same as above 

So, both done!

I realised I didn't mention that I completed my 50th marathon at the Steppingly Step in Bedfordshire back in November. All went well, surprisingly,  given my consistent disasterous run of runs in the lead up to it. I celebrated at the end with beans on toast in the village hall with Andrew, a bloke who had just finished his 100th marathon, and another lovely bloke from the 100 Marathon Club. There's no better way to be brought back down to earth than by having your hard worked for achievement immediately outshone by someone else. He had a cake, and everything. Although it was pretty much gone, because he's finished that far ahead of me. After popping to the bathroom for a baby wipe shower (such is my glamourous life) I went back to the car, and found this!!!

CAKE!!! Thanks Andrew!!! Fortified by some cake and in the warm glow of the candles, I immediately felt a little less outshone, and instead just massively motivated to do 100 marathons. If you get a cake with this much chocolate at 50, what do you get at 100?

Happy New Year folks! May 2017 be filled with smiles, laughs, health, and all the things you wish for! 🍀💖😆

Ups and downs

A week last Saturday I did my first marathon again after 4 weeks of almost no running. Physically, I was totally unprepared, but mentally I was ready to go again. I wasn't expecting much of myself, but I was determined to go out there and enjoy it, and I actually surprised myself by doing it quite well. I guess I must still have had my base fitness there, but I think the most important thing was that in my head I felt much less intimidated by running than I had for a while, and for some reason I just had this confidence that I would be OK. It was the Thames Meander Marathon, an old favourite, and it was good to be back and to prove to myself I could still do it.

It made me think again about my journey this year, and the ups and downs. When at the start of the year I was definitely on a down phase of my journey, I set some running challenges for the year ahead, as one powerful tool I've learnt to keep my depression away is to set goals to focus on, things that require a lot of planning, action, and focus. All year I've been true to my promise to myself to work on these challenges, and I ticked off the first one in May, to complete a 100 mile event. Since then, I've been working on the second challenge too, to get to 50 marathons by the end of the year. The Thames Meander was number 47.....

I always draw parallels between running and life, and I think the last few weeks have really highlighted it to me. I've had some really massive downs running wise with a couple of really bad experiences recently. And it gave me an opportunity to think. I've always thought of things in the following order - that running helps me to deal with depression. I think that if I can do something really hard running-wise, then it helps me to think that I can also deal with really hard things life-wise. But surely the other way round must be true as well then - if I can deal with difficult periods life-wise, then surely I can run even a difficult race? If I've been thinking for years that running has taught me that the following steps can help me manage feeling low, then it follows that if I just reverse things, then they are also applicable to coping with a difficult run:

• Break things up into small steps
• Set little goals, but still just outside of my comfort zone
• Go outside, even if it's rubbish weather, just wear warm clothes
• Choose a nice outfit so you feel nice
• Talk to people, even if you think they won't want to talk to you, or you won't have anything interesting to say to them, or they won't like you
• Smile, even if you don't feel like it
• Make sure you eat and drink properly to have the nutrients you need to be healthy
• Stop thinking about what has happened, it's happened and it can't un-happen however much you think about it. Take one lesson from whatever it was (e.g. a bad race), and move on
• Look around, at the world and the people. How beautiful the world is! 

I approached marathons 48 and 49 last weekend, thinking along these lines. It's A Numbers Game is a double marathon. What better way to spend Saturday AND Sunday than running along the Thames??? No better way. None at all! Even in the pouring rain on Saturday I wrapped up warm, expecting to be running slower than usual, and I had literally one of the best runs ever. On Sunday the weather was beautiful, and I had another good run, finishing faster than I did on Saturday. Belting weekend. They were the friendliest races I've ever done. The routes were laps up and down the Thames Path, so runners passed each other as we all settled into our own paces, and it being a small event it was soon easy to recognise each other. Everyone was shouting well done and smiling at each other....and as the race wore on and the ability to talk deteriorated, words were replaced with thumbs up, and then by eyebrow raises, but always the smiles were there, however much pain people were in. It was just brilliant. It restored a part of me that sometimes gets buried in all the bad news you hear each day and the rude people you see sometimes....that there are so many good people all around, and it's really easy to connect with each other. How simple it is to smile at someone, but how much of a difference it can make. I think this sums it up:

I also got a massive medal. That's a confidence boost in itself. I might not have an Olympic gold medal to my name, but I do have a medal that is so heavy that I can't actually put it around my neck without risking injury. 

So, just one marathon left now, number 50 will be on Sunday, The Steppingly Step Marathon....

Time out

Oh yes, it's Friday!

Time for some time out. Actually not true. End of time out!

Had a few weekends of back to back races, with differing degrees of disaster. 

Oh dear.

First up was the Purbeck Marathon in Dorset. Had been looking forward to that one for ages. Andrew and I stayed down in Dorset for the weekend with friends Chris and Ellie, and Saturday night we spent carb loading (or, eating pizza and blackberry crumble). On Sunday Andrew, Chris and I ran the race. I loved the first half, heading westwards along the Jurassic coast in the warm sunshine with fantastic views. High up on the cliffs above the shimmering water I felt on top of the world! High up....oh, here we are in Dorset, and I soon remembered the relentless hills of the Dorset 100. But what goes up comes down and all that. And so it happened with my mood too. At around half way I suddenly started to find it hard, and Chris and Andrew were both doing amazingly well, and I all of a sudden started to struggle in my mind, left on my own behind all my 'team'. I get sometimes into a dark spiral of thoughts, but this happens less and less as I feel better lately, so at the time I also started to beat myself up for feeling like this right in the middle of something important. Which made it worse...etc etc... Some dark miles followed, but at the bottom of (another) long hill I got chatting to a guy who turned out to be from Bolton, so some Northern chat cheered me up. At the top of the hill the route went along a high ridge for a good few miles, and I soon started to overtake people, and my confidence suddenly came back and my mood lifted. The last few miles were much better and I felt strong as I finished the last couple of miles and had a nice little sprint finish along the seafront. Congratulations to Chris (his first official marathon) and Andrew who both did amazing!

The next weekend Andrew and I did the Sussex Stride, 51 miles around the South Downs area. I loved it, a beautiful hot day,  running, and in one of my favourite places! Also, good news in the bag front, after years of buying cheap backpacks and having trouble with them rubbing my back when running, I finally bit the bullet and bought an expensive proper running rucksack. It's an Ultimate Direction Adventure Vest and my,  I wish I had bought it ages ago! It fits like a glove, is super comfortable  (no back sores!!) and has 16 pockets. I love a good pocket. Had a little trouble remembering what was where with that many. It was totally worth the money. At about 40 miles in disaster struck as Andrew became ill, and started throwing up at the top of a hill. We made it to the next check point where he had to retire. I hung around for a while to make sure he was ok and could get back to the start ok (whilst also using the time wisely, and eating a bacon butty which the people on the checkpoint were brilliantly managing to make on a little stove, in the dark). Holy hell, it's dark. I've just realised. Now my running partner is laid out on the floor and is no longer working, I'm going to have to finish this thing by myself, and now it's dark and there are still 7 miles of South Downs to run across before the end. Crap. I don't like the dark. I hung around for a few more minutes in the hope that someone else might turn up who I could tag along with, but no one turned up. I headed off. It was just as terrifying as I thought, but apart from being sworn at by a drunk man coming out of a pub in a village I ran though, getting lost in a field, freaking myself out at least a million times that something was behind me and that shadows were ghosts, and talking out loud to myself the whole way, to keep myself company, I made it alive to the end! Where Andrew was, feeling better! Garry from the Chiltern Marathon was also there at the end, having finished ages ago, and managing to get heat exhaustion on the way around. My little cousin Sammy (who's actually 18 and over 6 foot, so technically not little) did a cracking walk coming in not much behind me - nice one! 

The week after we did another marathon, the Amesbury Amble near Salisbury. The less said about this one, the better. I have renamed it Amesbury's Atrocious Amble. Nothing at all to do with the event, it's absolutely fantastic, but due to my performance,  which was a shocker. I was really ill, had awful stomach pains, and barely even made it to the end. Ugh. I feel ill just thinking about it. 

So that was two weeks ago. I've taken it very easy the last couple of weeks. Have been a bit scared that something was wrong, as have been struggling with my periods and feeling weak too, but have been checked out at Dr and nothing wrong so far. Could just be a blip i suppose.

I'm going right back to basics and building up my running again. I actually feel like a run now, whereas I haven't for a while, so maube that's a sign its time to start again! 

Have a great weekend! X 

Average

I've written and re-written this blog post a load of times. It's always been rubbish, and it still is. This must be what writers block is like. My mind's gone blank, I can't think of anything to write, and when I do mange to think of something, it just sounds dull.

I feel a bit average.

Which reminds me..... 

Just returned from a holiday to Scotland. While we were there, we climbed Ben Nevis. We were a little bit disorganised, and by the time we got to the bottom it was about 12.30 pm. We also didn't have a map. Or any mosquito spray. So I went into the visitors centre, where I was reassured that I can't have been the only one to not have brought map, as there was a whole stand of them. Unsure as to the best choice, I asked the lady behind the counter, who recommended one. 

"Are you going up the mountain now?" she asked, and I detected a note of admonishment in her tone.

"Yes" I said, because I was. 

"Well you'd better hurry up, it takes the average person between 6 - 8 hours to get up and down, and it's 12.30 already." 

Yes, I know. I can tell the time.

Hang on.

Average?

Do I look average?

I tightened my boots, applied a liberal helping of mosquito deterrent, and turned in the direction of The Mountain.

4.5 hours later we were back at the visitor centre.

Average. 

Ha.

It was even sunny at the top, which only happens once every 25 years or so.

Back in England, and ran marathon number 43 on Sunday with Andrew - a really great marathon, the Chiltern Marathon. A beautiful September day, a friendly bunch of people, a lovely route....what more can you want from a Sunday (excluding bacon and eggs, a lie in, etc etc)? 

Some of the directions were a little open to interpretation, but we actually managed the whole way around without getting lost, which was a big confidence boost, as I've had quite a few navigational mishaps over the last three events, and I was concerned I might have lost my skills, and become a little average.

Met Gary along the run, and we ran the second half along with him. What a great bloke, a genuinely nice guy who loves running a long way, and encouraging others to enjoy the same. He also did the Dorset 100 this year, in just over 22 hours! Have got loads of tips for training now, kit, helping blisters, and some tips for spending less time at checkpoints (it's a sad fact, but time spent at cake stops has got to become better controlled). 

I think that's about the average length of a blog post now, so I'll stop here.