Got to Run Mum

Well, hello there... I have long declared myself ‘missing in action’. Life has been hurtling by at tremendous speed and I’ve found myself spread thin, wondering what deal I could possibly do to gain more hours in the day. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to recall the password to log back into my blog page. If you’re reading this, then ‘go me!’ I’ve succeeded in getting in! So, why pick this up now?  I’m still running but my running has been sporadic at best. Since the hell that was Brighton (sorry Brighton, it’s not you, it’s me...) I’ve seen my joy for running coming and going in waves. Bursts of it being the brilliant, empowering tool that has brought me to new PB’s and then lulls whilst being relegated to the injury bench... I’m currently recovering from one stubborn shin injury just as others are nearing the end of successful marathon training cycles, churning out jubilant, and well-deserved, medal bling pics. Yes, the green-eyed monster is currently thrashing out this ra...

Well… where to start… I had booked the Brighton Marathon in the post- marathon euphoria after London. With the London Marathon medal still hanging from my neck and my legs still showcasing the ‘hobble down stairs’ strut, I eagerly booked up marathon number three, dreaming of finish lines, crowds cheering me on and times smashed… I have a real ‘love/hate’ relationship with marathon running… I absolutely despise marathon running for a large chunk of the run- usually miles 17-23… but the feeling after soon makes me forget the pain, mental torture and tears…I vowed that this would be the marathon to really prove to myself that I can ‘run’ a marathon. In both my previous efforts I’ve struggled to keep running and had to walk at times to get through it, last year was due to injury… Not my fault but still left me with unfinished marathon business. This would be the event that I could finally smash my marathon demons. Training proved to be tricky, my husband had bagged himself a ...

Brr. Beginning the day in minus temperatures, I found myself questioning my sanity as I left the comfort of my warm and toasty bed to run for two hours in the freezing cold… And what’s more, we runners pay for the experience! Missing this run wasn’t an option. Last weekend, after a migraine from hell and a serious lack of sleep (and a little bit of fear about my performance, if I’m completely honest) I was a no show for a half marathon event. One that I’d been excited about for months. And that I’d spent all week regretting missing as pictures popped up on social media of happy runners showing off their well- earned medal bling.  I'm a sucker for a snazzy medal... Plus, this race would be a very rare chance to run the same event as my husband as a friend was happy to watch the monkeys. Monkeys packed off, and absolutely sky high (apologies Debbie!) and we were on our way. As we approached Thorpe Park the car park was quickly filling up… This was a bigger event than expect...

No, this isn’t a clean eating guide or a fast food bashing post. I am talking about junk miles, and the half arsed workouts. I have been running for about three years now (how did that happen?!) I was a complete novice when I started- I seriously would have rather missed a bus then have to jog to make it. Running? Oh, no. I can’t breathe when I run. Yes, I used to say that! Now approaching my third marathon, I guess I should start accepting that perhaps I have become a ‘proper’ runner. But do I feel like one? Not really. I don’t know my ‘tempo’ from my ‘fartlek’, my ‘Kenyon hills’ from my ‘threshold’. I just… run. And pretty slowly too. Ahead of each event I’ve ever entered, I’ve downloaded a plan and started ticking. Obediently setting off for each run and churning out the miles. But not making any significant improvements. Not getting any speedier, and not feeling particularly stronger. The two races I’ve entered and felt really strong and powerful for, (and fast as it g...

So, 2018. Here we are. Somehow you are flying by already. I thought I’d take time for a little catch up, now that we are solidly into 2018… February already?!! I have become the cliché! January 1st arrived and I joined a gym. Since taking up running I’ve been quite smug about not needing to be a gym member. ‘I get all the cardio I need through running.’… ‘I do my own strength training at home.’ ...Why would I need to join a gym? And yet, I haven’t seen any major progress in my running for a long time, my jeans are all feeling a little... well... a lot more snug (darn you Christmas!) and my strength training now pretty much consists of a couple of squats and stretches whilst watching Eastenders. So when one of those new, cheap and cheerful, no contract, 24- hour gyms opened on my doorstep, I thought maybe, just maybe I could benefit from a helping hand. I’ve now been a member for just over a month, though two weeks of that was spent booking and then ca...

What I've always loved about running is the ease of it. No, not the actual run itself, but that you can just pull on your trainers and off you go. No fee to pay, no monthly bill to sting you! In the past I've paid for gym memberships that I've never used... or paid for and then sat in the steam room after a five minute walk on the treadmill! Up until the point my husband had to leave his nicely paid job,  I'd been enjoying the luxury of a Virgin Active Membership. Oh, how life has changed! Walking into that Virgin Active with copies of our bank statements and proof of our impending homelessness to get out of the pricey contract has got to be up there in my top three most humiliating moments... But with my discovery of the joy of running came the discovery of an affordable sport, non reliant on my bank balance. Running in a recent race, I found myself tuning into conversations around me... "Oh, I was a mortgage advisor for some time..." "We got back fro...