Got to Run Mum

I have been marvelling at my bruises all week! A sign of the effort that I put into what was up there with the best days of my life. If I am honest the Spartan Sprint filled me with dread. I'd seen youtube videos. The participants look fit, ridiculously fit. I still see myself as being a pretender to the running scene, having not quite shifted the couch potato tag in my mind. Somehow I'd roped my sister-in-law to join in too! Both doing our bit to raise funds for a wonderful charity. It wasn't a great start to the day when I managed to read the sat nav wrong a whopping four times. I hate running late. I am always early. Always. I needn't have worried. We got there in plenty of time. Our wave time beckoned. There was an obstacle to get into the holding pen. Now I was worried. "We are Spartans!" Chanted the crowd of ridiculously fit types. It was hard not to get swept up into the atmosphere, even if the mud at my feet was making me a little anxious. Ha! If

Richmond Running Festival I want to start off by saying, I love running! I never ever thought I'd feel that way. When I first started, huffing and puffing as I struggled to make it out the front door let alone for the 30 second bursts that I'd run for, I couldn't imagine actually enjoying it. But I do. I need to run now. It provides a release like no other and a sense of accomplishment I've never felt before... So needed at the moment when we are feeling like failures in so many other ways (long story I will save for another post but as it currently stands we are due to be homeless in two months! I'm coping remarkably well, facing your child having cancer puts so many things in perspective. Everything is going to be alright) When I run, I am strong. I conquer. I overcome. So, Richmond Running Festival. Why the enthusiasm? Well, my Dad came along for the experience and took part himself. Along with my husband, he is my rock, my constant and my best friend. To h

I feel I have neglected this blog in recent months. That's not to say that my challenge has been abandoned. Oh no. My pile of medals is steadily growing and the donations are slowly rising. I have a long way to go to reach my fundraising target but I will get there. Somehow. So, why the absence? Well, for a while it was struggling to impress you with my words. Clutching at ways to make my blog stand out... and in lots of ways, life has stumbled in my path. Negative thoughts have crept in... Amidst training for races, taking part in races and pushing for donations, I've been busy trying to get a little theatre company going (and panicking about the hit to my finances that comes with launching a new business), busy with two children who demand a lot of attention from Mummy (clingy toddler anyone?) and busy supporting my husband at a particularly low time. (We will be leaving our home in just a few months, for where? I honestly do not know...) Stress has taken over. This blog

Fundraising is hard work. Trying to convince people to part with their hard earned cash to support your cause is tough. And I can see why people are reluctant to donate. Sometimes it's just a case of 'I'll do it later', 'When I get paid...' 'I'm out at the moment, when I get in...'. I know. I've been there. I've said those things. It's not actually that you don't want to donate. We all lead our lives and the more important things crop up that cause you to forget. There are so many causes to support and I'm sure charity requests often pop up in your facebook feeds. Some of you already support the big charities through regular direct debits or through your own fundraising challenges. I know nearly all my friends took part in the 'no make up selfie' challenge and the 'ice bucket' challenge. I know, you do your part, your charitable efforts have been ticked off for the season. So, why should you donate to mine? First

It's early. Too early for a Saturday when you don't have work. Too early for a Saturday when you've been up frequently in the night seeing to your precious children. God, I love them both dearly but I so wish they'd learn to sleep...And definitely too early when you've spent all week sniffing and aching and coughing and spluttering with a silly cold that just won't quit. So what am I doing? Pulling on my trainers. Still wiping the sleep out of my eyes as I reach for my car keys, I have decided that today I must run. There's a park run at the local lakes. A timed 5k. It's the last thing I feel like doing but I must. I haven't trained all week and I know that I have a 10k race to run next weekend. So today I must run. Must. You see, I made a promise last year. When my daughter was ill. When I didn't know what the future held, or whether I'd get through it. I promised that once it was over, once it was a part of our past, I'd repay all t

Let’s start at the beginning, a very good place to start… actually to really go back, to relive it, to go back over each thought, each process, each heart-breaking moment; I want to go back to a day just a few days before the start. I was sat on our sofa, feet up, chocolates in hand, relishing this stage of pregnancy. Embracing the eating for two, counting down to our first scan. Wishing away the time. It was a week before Christmas, the best Christmas we were going to have. Our daughter was nearly two, we knew she’d love all the presents and we had planned plenty of Christmas activities to make it extra special. We’d planned a big Christmas party for our friends and family. It was just going to be perfect. The perfect Christmas and then the perfect start to what would be a perfect year. The year we would meet our second child. If only our daughter could shake off this really annoying tummy bug. It had been a couple of weeks now. Of seeming fine but then throwing up. She’d be happily