Weekly RUNdown 27/11/17

Good evening! It’s actually Monday as I write this, so that’s a good start.

I would start out by saying that I’ll try not to ramble too much, but we all know that’s not going to happen, so…

On Tuesday I finally made a decision I’ve been dithering about for a while and signed up for a gym membership. I chose the gym that my physio is based at, partly because the familiarity I’ve already developed with the place helps it seem less scary to go there, but mainly because it offers a rolling membership so I’m not tied in to paying for it for 12 months.

After work on Wednesday I went for an induction and got a tour of the facilities, which were rather impressive! The gym is bright and open and split over two levels, with the  cardio and resistance machines on the top level and the free weights downstairs. There are two big studios for group classes, a spin studio, a dance studio (I think they even offer cardio barre-type classes – will I be brave enough?) and something called a Kinesis studio which was full of inexplicable ropes and levers. After I’d stared at it confusedly for a minute or two the woman showed me around said: “Yeah, I’d definitely suggest taking a class or two.” Intriguing… Oh, and there’s a swimming pool too, but it’s kind of a water treadmill. You set a flow-rate and then just have to swim against it! It looked slightly terrifying but I must try it some time.


Sweaty gym selfie is sweaty. Also trying to take pictures without anyone noticing requires a surprising amount of concentration!

Before I could change my mind I went straight to the gym after I left work on Thursday. Since I’d basically not done any cardio except for running for years, I wasn’t at all sure what kind of workout I was planning, but I headed to the least scary machine, the elliptical trainer, hopped on, and went for it. After warming up I went for a hard effort for 15 minutes, and then switched to the bike and then the rowing machine for 10 minutes each. I ended up in an unintentional competition  with a guy on the next rower, as I noticed he was matching my speed and couldn’t resist upping it. I finished up with 10 minutes brisk uphill walk on the treadmill and called it a night. I was Sweaty with a capital S and badly wanted some dinner! Before I left I booked in with a trainer for a “goal setting” session next week, which will be the first time I’ve done any such thing so that will be interesting.

On Saturday morning Matt and I dragged ourselves out of bed for Parkrun, although to be fair it is far less of a struggle than it used to be! Cheltenham was celebrating its 250th Parkrun so it was extra busy, and I couldn’t help but be amused at the way we all huddled together like penguins in the bitterly cold air. I was super determined to crack the 30 minute barrier for the first time in Cheltenham, so at the whistle I took off pretty swiftly, in fact it was swift enough to leave Matt behind for a few yards (sorry darling!)

After the first two laps something happened in the backs of my legs, right at that point where the butt ends and the thigh begins. Honestly it felt like someone with really long nails jabbed their fingers into me and squeezed. I gasped and just sort of… stopped. Matt glanced over his shoulder, doubled back and grabbed me, absolutely insisting that I keep going. So, with gritted teeth, I did. It took a lot of focus to ignore the pain and carry on, and I guess some might argue that it wasn’t a good idea. But I think over time I’ve developed a good sense for when these sorts of pains have sinister origins and when they are more innocent. In this case I knew my hamstrings were tight because (a) they pretty much always are and (b) because my physio commented on it last time I saw him. Add this to the fact that I’ve been consciously trying to change and improve my running form recently and I wasn’t that surprised that part of me was complaining!


My pace profile from Saturday’s Parkrun. Can you spot the place where my hamstrings complained?!

With a fair bit of encouragement from Matt and only a tiny bit of swearing under my breath I got to the finish in 29:39. HECK YES!

Boy was I tired though, and when one of the volunteers spoke to me I could not for the life of me understand what she wanted. For some reason my brain decided I was being told off and I just burst into tears right there, crying into Matt’s shoulder. The RD came over to check that I was okay, which I thought was really lovely of him and just shows the supportive environment that Parkrun offers. Of course I was fine once the moment of anxiety had passed, and I could start to feel the satisfaction of a run well done.

Saturday evening was a friend’s birthday bash in Bristol and we went to one of these “escape room” games, where you get locked in a room full of puzzles and have to work as a team to get out within a certain amount of time. This has nothing whatsoever to do with running, but I am a massive fan of these things – if there’s one near you and you haven’t tried it you must! They are great fun, and you get a real sense of achievement if you make it out in time. The best part is that the most successful teams are the ones with a mix of different types of people. I’m the nerdy academic type, and Matt’s the practical engineer type, and put together with some of our friends who add patience, lateral thinking or an eye for detail into the mix we make a formidable team. For me it’s an excellent metaphor for the way that a mix of different types of training and fitness activities make me as a whole a better runner and a more well-rounded person.

And after that completely smooth and not at all forced segue I will sign off for now. This week will be a busy one at work, but the reward will be a long weekend for me as I’m on leave on Friday, whoop! See you next Monday.




Weekly RUNdown 22/11/17

Ok so I’m a little late with this one, given that I had intended to write it on Monday and it is now Wednesday. To be honest I completely forgot until Matt mentioned it on the phone just now… oops.

On Tuesday I came home from work full of beans and cooked up a plan to get up early and run a few miles along the Ridgeway at sunrise on Wednesday. I even got all my running gear ready and laid out on the sofa. But as the evening wore on I could feel a sore throat creeping up on me. Trying to pretend I hadn’t noticed it I went to bed early still feeling optimistic about my running plans. But it wasn’t to be. I was awake at 3 in the morning feeling feverish with a painful throat and hadn’t improved after a few more hours sleep. I spent the day on the sofa feeling extremely sorry for myself, not even able to muster up the energy to watch TV. Still feeling atrocious the next morning I guiltily called in sick once again and parked my bum on the sofa. That evening Matt arrived (we’d both booked Friday off to go Christmas shopping) and persuaded me to leave the house for a while for a quick trip up to Bicester Village to get a head-start on the shopping. The trip was successful (read: expensive) and it was good to see something other than my living-room walls! I also managed to score some Lululemon leggings for £30, which I am dead chuffed about as I’ve been wanting to try them for a while but couldn’t have brought myself to pay £100 for a pair.

Friday was an interesting day to say the least. We started it at a car dealership, where I mostly just sat and nodded while Matt did some damn fine haggling and we ended up shaking hands with the saleslady on what I think was a pretty good deal for a new car! We will have to wait a few months as we’ve ordered a new model, but nevertheless I am super excited! After starting our day of shopping doing what felt like some pretty epic shopping we drove down to London to the massive Westfield shopping centre and spent a happy few hours wandering round choosing presents for our loved ones. It was late when we got back, and we’d amassed an impressive collection of bags, but I’d hardly noticed my cold all day and it was a lovely, festive occasion! Left to my own devices I would likely leave shopping much more to the last minute, but I will admit that I can see the benefits of Matt’s organisational skills!

Saturday I could tell my cold was settling on my chest so I opted not to Parkrun, which left Matt free to go for a PB, although I don’t think that was his plan initially. I thoroughly enjoyed cheering him and the other runners on, chatting to the Run Director about keeping ones hands warm and getting to watch the whole thing from the other side. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t officially volunteer because (a) I wasn’t sure if I would have enough voice for all the cheering, and (b) I knew I needed to be able to head back to the car if I got too cold and sniffly. Anyway, to cut a long story short Matt ran magnificently and came in at 23:40 ish which was a PB by at least a minute, and I couldn’t have been prouder! It’s hard to believe this time last year he was pretty much a non-runner, and now he can outpace me by miles (literally).


Go Parkrunners go!


Racing the final few yards at Parkrun.

Sunday was one of those days that will stick with me for a long while. We got bundled up and headed over to Uffington to meet up with some of my colleagues to celebrate a retirement. The retiree had opted out of a traditional party and instead arranged a scenic hike in his local area, finishing with cream teas at a nearby cafe. It was thrilling for me to introduce my man to my colleagues, and I also got to catch up with people who I’d not seen in forever. The walk was challenging, especially as we had only 2 hours to cover 6 miles and the area is not exactly known for being flat! But oh my goodness the weather and the views were incredible. It felt like we were walking along in a bubble filled with golden light and the sound of laughter. I know that sounds incredibly soppy but it’s entirely genuine – the atmosphere was truly special. Arriving at the tea shop, rosy cheeked and exhilarated, to be greeted by a host of twinkling fairy lights, hot coffee and scones piled high with jam and cream, was the perfect way to end a perfect autumnal day.

Thanks for reading my ramblings, and hopefully next week’s edition will be a little more timely!



Weekly RUNdown 13/11/17

In an effort to post a little bit more frequently to this blog, I thought I’d start trying to do a weekly recap post where I talk a little bit about what I’ve been up to in the preceding week. I’ll mainly talk about running and related things, but I hope to be able to include some other life stuff and general chat too.

This past week has been a rather busy one! At the beginning of the week I was in charge of my group’s annual conference (which has been my baby for the last 8 months or so) and it was a bit of a whirlwind of introducing guest speakers, dealing with technology and preparing for my own presentation on the Tuesday morning. Happily I think everything went well, and most of the attendees enjoyed themselves. I’ve enjoyed being at the helm of the meeting for the last 2 years but I’m going to be glad to pass the baton to someone else and just be an attendee myself next time!

I managed to get out for a run on Thursday morning, and for some reason I decided to do some hill repeats (my first ever, in fact) of a nearby hill that I knew was about a quarter of a mile in length. I jogged the mile to the top of the hill and charged down, enjoying myself immensely (I love running downhill!) and then turned and with a determined, if naive, attitude and back up I went. I had arbitrarily decided that 6 repeats was my magic number but on the first climb I realised two things – 1) that the hill was a lot steeper that I had remembered and 2) that quarter of a mile is quite far when you’re not used to running uphill!

3 hill repeats and a mile’s cooldown later I started my workday with a funky elevation profile for my Strava feed and a general sense of accomplishment! I don’t often make it out for early morning runs, but I really must try harder – it feels so good afterwards!

Saturday marked our tenth Parkrun, and honestly I was more than a little bit nervous. We’d heard that it would use the narrower and less spacious winter route for the first time this year, and after my panic attack a few weeks ago I was worried that I wouldn’t cope well with the crowds. The first (of five) laps of the lake was extremely crowded, so much so that I couldn’t get into my stride, but Matt stayed close to me and tried to block anyone from coming up my right-hand-side so that I wouldn’t feel boxed in and panic. But after that I felt okay and we were able to run more naturally and started to enjoy ourselves as the field spread out. We rarely overtake on the longer laps of the summer course, but this time we picked off people left, right and centre! One of the course bottlenecks is a narrow bridge with a couple of bollards in the middle, followed by a sharp (and muddy) right hand turn. On one of the laps I got completely stuck behind some folks on the bridge and could sense one of the faster runners trying to come past me as well, but managed to bypass the rising panic, do a weird pause-step-sideways shuffle and tuck my elbows in, and avoid everyone! Matt told me later he was on high alert when he saw me get boxed in and was proud that I sorted my self out! I’m definitely counting it as a win.

Sunday was a weird day. I’d realised on Saturday that I’d left my medication at home in Didcot, and even though I knew that within 24 hours I’d start to feel really pretty awful as it left my system, I was terrified that speaking up would “spoil” the weekend, so I said nothing. By Sunday morning I was feeling quite unwell, but I was determined to try and push through (I know, I know, so silly!) but by the time we came back from our traditional Sunday carvery I couldn’t hang on any longer. I was dizzy, nauseated and unable to focus. How could I possibly expect to drive myself home the following day feeling like this, or worse?

So, with what would probably have looked like overacting even on the set of Eastenders, I said to Matt that I had something to tell him and confessed to my crime. There were many tears, and you’ve probably never heard the word “sorry” uttered so often or so passionately as it was in those 10 minutes.

See, part of me believes that mistakes that would be eminently forgiveable and worthy of compassion in others are, when made by me, horrendous transgressions that Ruin Everything Forever and Ever and are evidence of me being a No Good, Terrible, Bad person.

Luckily, Matt doesn’t subscribe to the rules of the mean part of my brain, and so he simply saw a problem which was easily solved. I was loaded into the car with a blanket and a pillow and off we went to fetch the much needed tablets. It was a pleasantly sunny afternoon and the roads were clear, so it was an easy round trip, and by the time we were back in Cheltenham I was starting to feel better. The day ended cosily with chicken and mashed potato, David Attenborough on the telly and a sofa piled high with blankets. As I mulled over the events of the afternoon I felt intensely grateful that Matt was there to be nice to me when I couldn’t be nice to myself. I guess events like this are part of the ill-defined and probably indefinite process of recovery, but it’s comforting to know that I do now have the self awareness to recognise (albeit slightly belatedly) my faulty beliefs for what they are.

I hope this was an enjoyable read! Stay tuned for another edition next Monday (hopefully).

Virgin Money London Marathon 2017

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I’ve decided I’m going to call this post “the least timely race report of all time”.

It’s a post I’ve nearly written a few times and almost finished once, but after a hard drive failure this is a whole new piece of writing…

As you might have guessed, I went into the race weekend feeling somewhat underprepared. The weekend before Matt & I were up in the Lake District and my knee was fine on our climb up Scafell Pike, so I was hopeful that it would hold up in London too. My overall fitness on the other hand… not so much!

We got to London late on the Saturday morning and intended to head straight to the hotel before going to the Expo to collect my race number. Unfortunately (and I put this entirely down to nerves as I’m usually very good at London navigation) I managed to get us to the wrong tube station and a couple of miles walk away from the hotel. Given that my anxiety levels were already pretty high, this was not helpful. The weasels were enjoying pointing out all of the ways everything could go horribly wrong, and I only just managed to hold it together.

Sufficiently warmed up, we dropped bags at the hotel and headed to the Expo, which was another short walk and a cable car ride from the hotel. I’d ridden on the Skyline before, but it was new for Matt, and evidently for the ladies who we shared a car with, all on their way to the Expo as well and chattering nervously about being so high up and hoping the “rope” didn’t break.

The Expo itself was… beyond my powers of description, honestly. The enormous hall was seething with people, it was hot, sweaty, loud and absolutely buzzing with excitement. I collected my race number and chip without incident (and somehow also without a queue – massive kudos to the organisers, it was truly impressive). It was immediately clear that we would not be able to see everything the Expo had to offer. Already tired from an early start, standing on the train into London and walking halfway across the city to the hotel, I was fading fast and knew that I really needed to rest. That said, I loved all of the official merchandise, and could easily have spent an absolute fortune there! The charity section where you could enter little contests to win extra sponsorship and have your photo taken was our only other stop, and then it was back outside to the relative calm and to the hotel to rest. I spent the remainder of the afternoon resting, eating pasta and laying out what felt like a mountain of kit for the morning. This was it…

As I was getting ready on race morning I checked on my sponsorship page and found that it had just ticked over my £2000 target, which seemed like a good sign! By this point my nerves had died right down (for some reason, I’m always worse the day before a Thing than the day of the Thing) and breakfast was uneventful, although I was amused at the sheer amount of porridge, Weetabix and bananas the runners were going through! You could spot a spectator a mile off – they were the ones loading up on the bacon and eggs!

The hotel was a short walk from the race start, and as we approached I watched so many other runners and wondered what their stories were. Were they prepared? Nervous? Was this their first marathon or their tenth? Who was walking beside them this morning? As we headed into the park I said to Matt “my ankle hurts”, and although I was dead serious, we both laughed at the clear manifestation of pre-race paranoia… (insert ominous music here).

I said my goodbyes to Matt and headed into the start area, which much like the Expo was impeccably organised and absolutely full of people. It was warmer than I expected so I ditched my kit bag early and grabbed a coffee to drink while I queued for the portaloos (and yes, those queues were just as epic as everyone says they are). I tried to absorb as much of the atmosphere as possible, listening to the buzz of chatter from other runners, looking out for other Team Mind members and enjoying spotting the more ridiculous costumes.

In the crowded huddle of the starting pens I checked my watch, started the GPS tracking, tried to ignore the fact that I needed a wee again, and ran my fingers around the 5 hour pace band on my wrist. I had to stand on tiptoes to see over the crowd, but the 5 hour pacers were a good way behind me. Good, I thought. My mission is to keep them there for as long as possible. With some rather distant sounding fanfare, we started gradually shuffling forward and then finally broke into a trot as we came round a corner to the start line. I fought back the urge to burst into tears, hit start on the Garmin and started to jog.

I don’t remember much of the early parts of the race. I remember the point where the runners from the other start merged with us, and what already seemed like an impossible number of people became twice that many. I remember thinking “hey, my knee doesn’t hurt” and a creeping sense of dread because “hey, my ankle really hurts”.

I got a boost around mile 8 where the main charity cheering station was, and was focused on mile 10 as I knew that’s where Matt would be. Sure enough, there he was, waving madly. I charged over for a hug and a gel, and was stunned and delighted to see that two of our friends – Suzy and Chris – were with him. At this point I was still ahead of the 5 hour pacer, and my friends sent me on my way with a renewed spring in my step!

Just before halfway, the route crosses Tower Bridge, and I can’t imagine a more iconic moment. So many people were stopping to take selfies on the bridge, and I just laughed and accelerated round them, such was the energy there. It was just a tunnel of noise and colour, completely overwhelming. I thought back a few years when I crossed the bridge as a spectator wondering how the runners felt. Well, now I know.

I was expecting to see Matt at mile 14, and by that point I really, really needed him. My ankle was excruciating, I was tired and hot and my mind was beginning to wander. As you can imagine I was gutted when I didn’t see him, and had to fight back the tears at the thought of having to face the lonely miles round the Isle of Dogs without a boost from him. By some miracle, though, he’d found himself at mile 15 instead, and when I saw him I think some more tears may have happened! And Suzy and Chris were still with him! I was ecstatic. “How are you doing?” They said. “I’m slow.” I said, “And hot.” I took more water, another gel, and Matt cheekily hopped over the barrier to give my ankle a bit of a rub. They told me my parents were stuck on the tube somewhere and would see me at mile 23. Mile 23, I thought. Will I ever actually get there?

As I had expected the next few miles were hellish. By mile 18 I couldn’t run more than a few hundred yards without having to stop and walk. This was partly due to my lack of fitness, of course (my longest training run having been 14 miles, nearly 2 months earlier), but also my ankle. It was hot, stiff, swollen and hurt to put weight on. But I’m nothing if not stubborn, and I plodded on.

Somehow the miles passed, we went through Canary Wharf, and I was on the home stretch, going back along the Highway and towards the Tower of London. I was having to run/hobble a little way, and then stop completely for a few seconds to breathe through the pain in my ankle. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I saw Matt, Suzy and Chris as planned at mile 22. While I’d been occupied plodding round the City, they’d acquired coffee and sweets, and though poor Matt still looked on edge, they were in good spirits and seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere. I turned down more gel “I’m not lacking in energy” I think I said (!) “it’s just my ankle!” They gave me paracetamol and hugs, and told me that my parents were somewhere between miles 23 and 24. This spurred me on and I ran the next mile-and-a-bit without stopping. I spotted my parents before they spotted me, I could see them peering worriedly at a phone. They’d had quite a day, poor things, fighting with transportation! I got more hugs but didn’t stop for long, I’d got something of a second wind at this point.

Along the embankment the noise of the spectators increased again, and oh my goodness was it something! I passed another Mind cheering station, and their whoops and cheers as I jogged past were amazing. As I passed Big Ben I was just starting to reflect on the fact that I had pretty much completed a marathon, when I heard my name being shouted from the side of the road. This had been happening all day, since I had it written on my vest, but not with this much urgency. I looked over and saw Matt, Suzy, Chris, and a bunch of random strangers all waving madly at me! I bounded over beaming from ear to ear and got some bonus hugs and kisses which propelled me into the final half mile with unexpected vigour!

I will never, ever forget the finishing straight. As I turned the corner the voice of the emcee came over the PA system and said “the next song is up to the people in the finishing straight” and then said that we should raise one hand for some rubbish song or two hands for “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen. Obviously everybody raised two hands and so I got the thrill of crossing the finish line accompanied by one of my favourite songs of all time!

I was in a bit of a daze after I crossed the line. I hope I thanked the volunteer who gave me my medal, I certainly meant to. I wobbled round to collect my bag and somehow went to the wrong truck, but luckily another volunteer spotted me and called me over to the right one! I finally got my phone out and checked through the messages that had been coming in. A couple of speedy folks, who must have been watching me on the tracker, texted their congratulations before I’d even left the finish area.

I made my way over to the meet and greet area and, after a brief worry about whether I could remember the alphabet I found our agreed upon letter and to my delight, Matt, Suzy and Chris were standing there waiting for me. Many excited hugs were exchanged, tears were shed and the impressively heavy medal admired. I parked myself on the ground as standing up any more was out of the question! My parents found us a little while later, and I sat in the sunshine surrounded by love and feeling just a wee bit dazed.

After Suzy and Chris took their leave, it was a long, slooooow journey back to the hotel for the rest of us. I could barely put any weight on my ankle, so spent most of the time leaning on whichever of my family members were closest. My parents couldn’t stay for dinner as they had a train to catch, so we said goodbye to them, grabbed a quick shower and headed out for dinner. I had been craving Nandos, so that’s what we had. I was too tired to be very hungry, though, and we ended up back at the hotel for a reasonably early night.

I was utterly exhausted and slept pretty soundly, although I did wake up at about 3am absolutely ravenous. I made Matt fetch me a cereal bar (because my ankle hurt too much to contemplate getting up myself) and devoured it in bed – crumbs be damned! Apparently this hunger carried through to the next morning, too, as I scoffed an enormous amount of breakfast. It didn’t feel that much to me at the time, but thinking back there were at least 3 empty plates by the end of it!

We splurged on a taxi back to Paddington Station, as I couldn’t face the ankle-hurting shuffle that using the tube would require, but it actually turned out really well as the taxi followed a goodly portion of the race route and it was incredible to sit and watch the sights go by, being able to reflect on what had happened the day before. I was a marathoner.

Oh, my time? It was 6 hours, 13 minutes and some change. I lost the 5 hour pacer around the halfway point, and that was the end of that. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit disappointed with my time, but really all that matters is that I did it. For my friends, family, colleagues and everyone out there dealing with mental illness, I did it.

Training Recap Weeks #9 – #16

I must confess that I haven’t looked at this blog since I wrote the week 8 recap. The second half of my marathon training was a bit of a rollercoaster, to say the least. This post is just a quickie just so that the record is complete before I post about London itself.

Week 9 started out really well, with a couple of shorter, speedier runs. On Friday evening, I started to feel a pain on the front of my left leg, just below the knee. It seemed to improve through Saturday so I set out with Matt on Sunday morning with the intention of running 16 miles. The first 6 miles of our route were almost all uphill, and there was a decidedly unpleasant drizzle that kept things feeling just the wrong side of okay. Just as I started to settle in and look more positively at the remaining 10 miles, the pain in my knee became unbearable and I felt like the joint could collapse at any moment.  I stopped, stretched, paced back and forth, tried to jog, gave up. The only slight problem was that we were at least 3 miles from home (although, thank god we’d planned a figure-of-eight route and weren’t 10 miles from home) and I could hardly walk without stabbing pain. But with me half riding Matt’s bike and him walking/jogging alongside we made it. There were more than a few tears from me.

I rested my knee for the rest of the week, and hoped furiously that it would recover. I was desperate to run the Bath Half at the end of week 10 as I was craving the race day high and a new bit of bling to add to my collection! Unfortunately it was not to be, I couldn’t risk damaging the knee more when London was the race I was really aiming for.

I saw a sports therapist during week 11, and to my surprise he concluded that my pain was caused not by a knee problem, but by hamstring tendonitis, likely brought about by tight hamstrings and poor core stability. The therapist threw every treatment he could at me for the next few weeks, and I did the prescribed strengthening exercises religiously.

I was, as you might imagine, extremely emotional about the whole experience. I felt like I had been robbed of the opportunity to find out what I was capable of, and what was worse was that I felt like the robber as well as the victim. My head was full of weasels screaming at me, and they were loving all the down time. It really gave them a chance to sharpen their claws. And oh, the words they were saying: I shouldn’t have ran those 6 miles that Sunday morning. I should have built up my mileage more gradually. I should have worked harder on my core. I should be a better person. I shouldn’t be so useless… It was almost impossible to keep anxiety at bay, and I couldn’t face posting here or on social media about my lack of running. I felt like a failure, especially as I watched everyone on Instagram do their longest runs and start to taper. I almost felt like I had done no training at all.

All in all I managed a couple of 4-5 mile runs during the 3 weeks before London.

My goal – to finish the London Marathon – was still (I believed) within my reach, but I had given up on the idea of a time to be proud of! I told my friends and family that I was going to do my damnedest to complete the course, hobbling if I had to, and that I was going to smile while doing it.

Ready or not, it was marathon day.





Training recap week #8


Week: 8/16

Runs: 4

Miles: 27.9

Legs: Ouch!

Mood: Thoughtful

And that was week 8! I’m now half way through my marathon training plan. Half way! Half. Way. HALF! WAY!

Okay, so that is a little* scary. But I’ve no reason to think I’m not on target – I completed all my workouts with some degree of success, and as I write this (it’s Tuesday lunchtime) I’m not too terribly stiff or sore in the leg department. Several really quite significant things happened this week, so I’ll take them one by one.

  1. I did my longest EVER run! Fourteen miles. Okay so it’s not a lot further than the 13.1 distance I’ve covered several times before, but psychologically it’s a pretty big deal, as my anxiety means that I feel the fear of the unknown more than most! Last week I would have told you that I couldn’t have gone further than 12 miles, and this week I could tell you that I couldn’t have gone further than 14. But I’m working on changing that thinking a bit. I think it’s more helpful and less scary to say “I don’t know if I could have gone further, but I’m looking forward to giving it a go next week” than “Nope, no way, nuh-uh, no! I was DONE.” Although to be frank, that second one is a lot closer to what went through my head at the end of 14 miles!
  2. My fundraising received a HUGE boost from Matt’s colleagues. I am humbled and overwhelmed by their generosity. Matt said some of them even chose to share their own, or their loved ones’, stories of mental health issues with him when he asked if they’d be willing to sponsor me. I think it’s incredible how the conversation can flow if someone is brave enough to start it. That’s the main reason why I’m doing this.
  3. I had another tempo run where I had to shake off the doubt instilled in me by looking into the runner’s crystal ball of negativity (which I’m going to talk about more in another post) and managed to completely smash it! I had to do 2 times 12 minutes at tempo pace with a 3 minute rest in between. For the first I held a 8:38 pace, and the second 8:57, and I am thrilled! I had pretty much given up on the idea of aiming for a 9:10 pace for the Bath Half in a couple of weeks, but now I’m thinking I might not be as far off as I thought. On Tempo Friday this week I have to hold a tempo pace for a solid 20 minutes, and I’m going to see how close to 8:30 I can stay!



Storm Doris gave great post-run hair!

I wish that I could say I was feeling totally capable and positive about the coming weeks! But, of course it wouldn’t be true. I am very proud of myself, and my body feels stronger than ever. But the unknown is scary, and I can’t deny that I’m tired and hungry a lot of the time, which is very draining and lowers my mood quite a bit. But, I am determined, I know I’m much loved and supported, and I’m not giving up. Let’s go, week 9!

*This is totally true. At least it is if I redefine “a little” to mean “a whole damn lot”…

I’m running the 2017 London Marathon for Mind, the mental health charity.
If you’d like to sponsor me please go to my fundraising page here!

Training recap week #7


Week: 7/16

Runs: 4

Miles: 23.9

Legs: A little tired and sore

Mood: I am runner, hear me roar!

Tearful outbursts: 0.5* 

Week 7 is done! Yeah!20170220_203833.jpg20170220_204141.jpg

I was dreading this week a bit as I knew I’d be really busy at work and wasn’t sure how I was going to fit in all the runs I needed to do. But in the end, it got done. I even managed two before-work runs which is a pretty big deal for this definitely-not-a-morning person! I had short tempo intervals on Wednesday morning, which was fine, but I underestimated the length of the route, had to dash the last mile and missed breakfast, which meant that come coffee break time I was off to Costa like a bat out of hell!

Friday was a couple of 8 minute tempo repeats, and for the first time I kind of understood what it’s like to not let yourself back off when things get a little tough. I know 8 minutes might not seem that long, and I have run faster for longer in the past, but where I’m at right now, holding 8:56 pace for 8 minutes was hard. I managed to partially detach the part of me that was thinking and feeling pain from the parts that were keeping me moving, and a silent mantra of “I can and I will” got me through. It was a tiny bit of a breakthrough to notice that my desire to keep my legs moving could override my brain going “ugh, slow down”…

Sunday was actually my longest training run ever! Although I’ve run several half marathons I haven’t ever done more than 10 miles in training, and I’ve got to be honest, it hurt. Why? Well, here’s the elevation profile:


Yeah. That last section was not pleasant on tired legs! (*This is where the half-a-breakdown happened. I panicked a little, shouting at Matt “I can’t, I can’t” but he wouldn’t let me have a full-on meltdown! He just kept telling me that I had more in the tank than I thought, and even made me pick up the pace for the last few yards for a mini sprint finish. I love that man!) It’s funny how the body can do things that the mind doesn’t think it can. Maybe that’s the theme for this week!

Next week’s long run will officially be the furthest I’ve ever run – 14 miles! Matt and I have the route all planned out and I’m looking forward to it. It feels like a particularly scary thing to do, to go further than ever before! But once I’ve done it, what’s to stop me from doing it again? Bring it on, week 8!


I’m running the 2017 London Marathon for Mind, the mental health charity.
If you’d like to sponsor me please go to my fundraising page here!

Training recap week #6


Week: 6/16

Runs: 4

Miles: 23.5

Legs: Powerful

Mood: Buoyant (and chilly!) 

Boom! Week 6 in the bag! I don’t have anything at all negative to say this week. I did all my runs (although I did move Wednesday night’s to Thursday morning), battled my way through 8 “sprint” repeats (a lot of mental gymnastics was involved in that one – after the first fast 60 seconds there was no way I was doing 7 more, but somehow 1 became 2, became 4, became 7…), and did my first double-digit run of the year.

wp-1486919233417.jpgOne thing I did struggle with was the short intervals. It was okay on Thursday with 60 second repeats, I just stayed pretty much glued to my watch. But on Friday I was supposed to be doing 5 minute tempo repeats, but I couldn’t pay enough attention to the watch as I was running on unfamiliar roads. So for wp-1486919270821.jpgthat reason and because of failing battery power I have ordered a replacement for my old Garmin Forerunner 15. I went for the Forerunner 235 because I like the round face and the colourful options for the strap. This combined with a new pair of shoes (I want to alternate with my old ones so they’re good and worn in by April!) my bank balance is suffering a little this week! But… new toys! 🙂

I’m ready to square up to week 7!

I’m running the 2017 London Marathon for Mind, the mental health charity.
If you’d like to sponsor me please go to my fundraising page here!

Training recap week #5


Week: 5/16

Runs: 4

Miles: 12.7

Legs: Strong

Mood: Impatient

This week was a lighter week, which, according to my plan, would allow my body to adapt to the training. To my surprise I have really noticed that I was not running as much, and have been feeling a strange sort of impatience, almost like a craving to feel really tired! The good news is that the pain in my shin seems to have mostly gone away, so hopefully this week has done its work and I’m ready for the training to move up a gear.

At the beginning of the week I decided it was time to send an email to all of my work colleagues announcing that I was training for the marathon and why, and basically ask them to sponsor me. It was the first time I’d admitted so publicly that I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression, and I was very nervous before I hit the send button. But I needn’t have worried. I got a really wonderful response, with several people emailing me to share their own experiences and to thank and congratulate me for doing what I’m doing. I had a fantastic surge in donations as well, with many more promised! I also got asked if I would agree to being interviewed for the staff newsletter, which will hopefully be another great way to raise awareness.

Next week, week 6, I will get my first taste of structured speedwork, which is both exciting and just a little bit scary. Let’s dive in!

I’m running the 2017 London Marathon for Mind, the mental health charity.
If you’d like to sponsor me please go to my fundraising page here!

Training recap week #4


Week: 4/16

Runs: 3

Miles: 17.6

Legs: Strong

Mood: Determined

Tearful outbursts: 4 or 5

Running related tearful outbursts: 1

So that’s the end of week 4 of marathon training, and for the first time I didn’t complete all 4 scheduled runs. As those that follow me on Instagram or Facebook will have seen I have struggled quite a bit this week with my anxiety. When I woke up last Tuesday morning it was like something heavy but restless had settled on my shoulders and something flighty, breathless and skittish had taken up residence in my chest. I couldn’t shake the dreadful anxiety that I was somehow completely unacceptable as a human being. The brain weasels took the biscuits I ate and enjoyed the night before and turned them into something shameful. They took the fun pictures of me running on Sunday and turned them into a horror-show of flabby thighs and cellulite. They took my long to-do list at work and turned it into a list of failures. They took everyday interactions with colleagues and made them feel dangerous. 

These kinds of feelings are no fun at all, but they’re not as scary as they once were. I know that sometimes they come, with little warning, but more importantly I know that always they go. 

In terms of running, I was damn proud of my Wednesday night (nearly) 6 miler. It was cold, dark, the air was full of dampness and mizzle, and I was tired after a day or normal work plus the extra drain of all that anxiety. But I did it, and I didn’t hate it, and I had pizza afterwards!


All smiles on Sunday!

I ended up skipping my Friday easy run because I’d had a niggly little pain in my right shin for a while and it seemed to be linked to tightness in my calf that came on during Wednesday’s run. I was hoping that a rest would help it to feel better, but weirdly it actually got worse the longer I didn’t run on it. So on Sunday out we went, Coach Matt and I, for 90 minutes in the park. It felt incredible. My legs felt strong and my pace was pleasingly steady. Matt commented that my stride looked stronger and that I was picking my feet up much better than last week. I am definitely getting stronger, and my positivity about the marathon has returned. I can totally do this!

Next week, week 5, is a low-mileage week, in theory so that my body can adjust before some speedwork gets added in in week 6! Exciting times.

I’m running the 2017 London Marathon for Mind, the mental health charity.
If you’d like to sponsor me please go to my fundraising page here!