A tale of two halves (and a 10k!)

It's been a bit of a crazy few months to say the least! In between starting a new job, helping to get a business started and helping to run three or four running groups a week as part of that, there hasn't been much time for doing race write ups. So with the autumn race season now done and dusted I thought it was a good chance to reflect on the last few races.

On the whole, it's been a pretty decent few months of running. My times have gradually been getting a bit better. Still nowhere near where they were a few years ago, but it's starting to look like there's a real chance I will get there again. I've done lots of lovely runs with lots of lovely people...highlights have included leading a gang on their first ever 10-miler as part of their half marathon training and running in the sunshine with Des on holiday.

I made myself a really good training plan to build up to what would be my fourth attempt at the Robin Hood Half Marathon. However, as ever, life got in the way on a few too many weekends, so I found myself getting closer  to the day with the ambitious time I'd set as a target looking more and more unlikely.

DOrunning Mansfield 10km team

Undeterred, I lined up on the start line of the Mansfield 10km on September 15th eager to get going as a good time-trial two weeks before my perennial home half-marathon. After taking part in this event twice in my early running days, I've missed it for the last couple of years so I was excited to be back running with hundreds of others around the town I grew up in. My recent runs had been going well and I set off feeling good and looking forward to seeing what I could do!

A few hundred metres in, I remembered just how 'undulating' the course is! The first hill was tough, then they just seemed to keep rolling on...and on! By the end of the first lap I knew I'd slipped from my target pace and decided to walk a bit and pull myself back together. Once I'd got the big hill which blighted the start of each lap out of the way, I gave myself a good talking to, hitched up my pony tail, cranked the volume of my music up and off I went! For the next mile or so I felt great, flying over the lumps and bumps, passing loads of people with one fellow runner even shouting "go on girl" as I put this burst of energy to good use.

For a bit. Then I was shattered with about a mile and a half to go and it took all my effort not to sit on the kerb and have a little rest. But as always I plodded on and before I knew it I was climbing up the last big hill and on my way down the final straight and on to collect my medal. It wasn't the time I wanted and it was nowhere near the 10km PB I ran there back in 2016 but it was another race ticked off and some good miles in my legs ready for the two half marathons I had lined up over the next month.

Next on the list was the Robin Hood Half Marathon. I always look forward to this one as it's got a lot of significance in my running story. My first half, my home half and the event that cemented me and Des into each other's lives. The 'Mile Challenge' the day before the main event is a fantastic warm-up event which adds another medal into the weekend with the opportunity to have a quick blast around part of the track. It's a great addition to the general excitement that surrounds the weekend for me and my friends.

What a squad!

I had mixed feelings setting out on this run. As I touched on earlier, I'd seen some good progress in my pace over the last few months but I knew I'd missed a couple of planned in long runs. I had a time in my head of 2:30 that I was absolutely desperate to achieve but I knew it was going to be a very tall order. Setting off, I felt pretty comfortable and soon settled into a good pace accompanied by the rhythmic sound of thousands of pairs of feet pounding the familiar route.

For the first 5km, which is coincidentally the most tricky quarter of the race, I felt good. Well actually I felt bloody brilliant, especially as I tipped out of the incline of The Park and down the long forgiving downhill of Derby Road, eagerly checking my watch to find I was about five minutes ahead of the time I completed that section in last year. The next quarter of the race is my personal least favourite part but, having practised it during training, it didn't seem too awful this year.

I don't really know what happened next. I steadily made my way through Wollaton Park and up the hill towards the hall and I could feel the energy, enthusiasm and positivity draining from me. My overly-ambitious target time had all but slipped away away and before I knew it I'd gone into a full panic mode and was walking down the path wiping tears away from my face.

This half way mark proved to be a turning point in more way than one. From here, I knew the second 10-ish kilometres was going to be all about pushing through and getting the bloody thing done. I ran a bit and walked a bit and smiled and waved to familiar faces, all the while gritting my teeth and counting down the miles wondering why the bloody hell I ever thought I had a 2:30 in me.

Very slowly, the miles went by until finally I was making the turn back into the

Managed a smile later!

Embankment, eager to get it done and get to the pub! Gingerly trotting across the extremely muddy finishing straight I was so relieved to reach the finish line and get the all important medal. I had managed to just scrape though in less than a minute quicker than last year's time. I was done, done in every sense of the word at this point and as soon as I saw familiar faces I just couldn't seem to stop the tears from flowing. Exhausted and disappointed, I could easily have chucked my trainers in the Trent and called time on my running story at this point.

So naturally, just two weeks later I woke up stupidly early on a Sunday morning and began the race-day routine of forcing some porridge down and pinning a number bib to my t-shirt ready to tackle the Royal Park Half Marathon. 

Everything felt different this time though. I wasn't running for pace at all and wasn't putting any pressure on myself to hit a set time. I was running for chairty this time, and for the sheer bloody fun of it. For the first time at a 'proper' race, Des and I had decided to run it together - he wasn't in great health so needed to slow it down a lot from his normal pace so it seemed like a good opportunity. So as we joined the thousands of other runners in Hyde Park I felt calm and excited at the same time, eager to get over the start line and start ticking the miles off. 

I had been looking forward to this race since my place to run for Make-A-Wish UK was confirmed earlier in the year, knowing that I'd get to take in some of my favourite London landmarks on the way and with the promise of an excellent event atmosphere. And as we headed off over the start line and towards Buckingham Palace I wasn't disappointed! 

Messing about on The Mall!

The second half of the route is a complete contrast to the first as it moves away from the long city streets and into the winding paths of Hyde Park. By around mile eight I started to struggle a bit as the spectators thinned and the rain started. I slowed to a walk a couple of times at this point and Des disappeared off ahead now and again, but always turned up again a mile or so down the route until finally we were into the last two miles where we stuck together again.

I had been walking a fair bit between miles eight and 11, again though it felt completely different to the bits where I beat myself up for walking just two weeks before at the Robin Hood Half. I took the opportunity to chat to some fellow runners about the various charities they were running for and to generally take in the gorgeous autumnal views of Hyde Park. 

But Des had other plans for me for those last couple of miles, setting me a challenge to take over at least 50 people before we reached the end. I told him I wasn't bothered, that taking over other people doesn't motivate me (which is doesn't, particularly), but all the same I managed to pick the pace up as we made our way around the last corner and onto the long final straight where we'd lined up ready to start just a few hours before. 

With about 200 metres to go, Des said I'd only had a few more people to pass to get to that 50 target, so I summoned every bit of energy I could and dashed that last little bit and over the line. Half marathon number 10 ticked off! 

All in all, I came in about 10 minutes slower that Robin Hood, but I really wasn't bothered. I'd gone out to do a job, and I had done it. And raised a few hundred pounds for a great charity in the process.

Loving the wooden medal

So that's the 2019 race calendar done (I think). It's been a very up and down year, with some massive highs and lows to reflect that. I've not made many concrete plans for 2020 yet as I'm in a bit of turmoil about exactly what I want to achieve next... I think that dilema is going to form it's own blog post in a couple of weeks!

There's something about putting on a charity tshirt...

There’s something about putting on a charity running t-shirt. I can remember four years ago when my first ever one came through the door. It was weeks before my frist ever race which I’d signed up for to raise money for Alzheimer’s Society. Bizarrely enough, back then I hadn’t really planned on keeping up the running side of things, it was just something I’d planned in for that year’s charity challenge.

A few weeks before race day the envelope came through the door containing the bright green and blue Alzheimer’s Society t-shirt and some iron on letters to put my name on. It dawned on me then that it was real, I was be going to run a whole 10k! I remember feeling proud as I put the vest on to do my last long training run, which at that point in my running journey was still being done on the treadmill! I did about 8.5km in an hour... something I can't imagine doing now, a whole hour running to nowhere on a bloody treadmill! Days later I felt that same pride as I crossed the finishing line, challenge complete and some good money raised for the charity my top advertised.

Skip forward just over a year and that familiar feeling of pride mixed with nerves and excitement returned as the British  Legion t-shirt plonked on the doormat ahead of my first ever half marathon back in 2016. Firmly a runner at this point, I set my sights on the half marathon and chose British Legion because they’d helped some people very special to me who had sadly passed away in the year before. As the race day came around I once again took to the streets of Nottingham delighted to be doing my bit, celebrating months of training with my first ever half marathon. Another few hundred pounds banked for another fantastic charity.

Then of course there was London! Still the biggest challenge I’ve ever taken and something I’ll be forever grateful to Girlguiding for giving me the opportunity to complete. Months of training which hadn't exactly gone to plan thanks to injuries and the bloody Beast from the East! Once again, a short while before the big day a thick envelope arrived, this time with a bright pink Girlguiding top. As a life long member and advocate for the charity, this one meant so much to me. With so many fond thoughts of the people and memories Girlguiding has given me to keep me company as I ran, walked and dragged myself through the streets of London, I couldn’t have been prouder of the charity splashed across my t-shirt, and of course the £2,500 I raised for them!

And now here we are again. With just over four weeks to go until the Royal Parks Half Marathon, today a lovely bright blue and red t-shirt made its way to my doorstep. This time it’s the Make A Wish foundation, and I can’t wait to run through the parks of London promoting them, hopefully with a good pot of money to hand over to celebrate the hard work I’ve done to prepare. It feels a bit strange because it’s the first time I’m raising money doing a race that won’t be my furthest ever. So I’m going for a different plan of attack... the alcohol has been cut out and I’m pushing as much as I can in these final few weeks so hopefully give people who kindly get behind me a bit of value for money. With a splattering of stars on the back of my top which I’m hoping to get sponsors for, I’ll have a whole bunch of reasons to keep going and do my best come race day.

Running has given me so much over the last few years, but without a doubt one of the things I’m most proud of is the ability it's given me to ‘do my bit' for the various charities I’ve proudly supported over the years.

I couldn’t really finish this post off without a shameless plug to my fundraising page for the latest one...click here to donate!

Mud sweat and tears...Conti Thunder Run 24!

I recently ticked off a new style of event on my running list and like many I’ve done this year, it was completely different to anything I’d done before. This time, I would be running as part of a team in a 24 hour endurance race – Continental Thunder Run 24.


For anyone who isn’t familiar with what a 24 hour race entails, the timer starts at noon and from then on individuals, pairs and teams have 24 hours to complete as many laps as they can. In the case of TR24, each lap is a scenic and undulating 10km in the picturesque grounds of Catton Hall. 


I had been looking forward to the challenge for a while, with an optimistic target of three in my head. However, I knew that a week in Spain ending with a late flight, few hours’ sleep and dash over to the outskirts of Derbyshire ready for the start probably wasn’t the best preparation!


The team aspect is what was really appealed to me with this one. Having been along to a few of these events without taking part, I had observed from a camping chair the camaraderie and team-spirit between those competing and I couldn’t wait to be part of it. So I was excited as 12noon came around and we head down to the race village ready to watch the mass start. 


As the clock ticked over and runners charged through the spectators and out onto the course, the atmosphere was fantastic! The running had started, everyone was in high spirits and I was itching for our first runner to come back so I could get started with my lap. After just over an hour, it was time for me to get started! 

All smiles heading off for lap one

Remembering the words of advice from Des and all my friends who had completed the course in previous years, I was prepared for it to be a steady one. Despite the week of sangria and the lack of sleep, I felt strong as I made my way along the start of the course, heading through the camp site and out towards the woods at a nice pace. The first hill hit which takes runners up through some trees on narrow and windy paths and I jogged along, letting those quicker pass by if they needed to. Then it was out onto some open fields with some amazing views – unfortunately I was enjoying it too much to take any photos! 


A couple of KM into the route I fell into pace with two ladies and it ended up being that we spent the rest of the lap working together to spur each other on. They’d go ahead a bit, then I would. Then we’d all run together for a bit, swapping stories of our best races and our worst along with sharing thoughts on what we hoped to get out of this event. Navigating the tricky course with my two new pals was really good fun! I started to think that I might actually enjoy trail running despite years of saying I wasn’t a fan. We ticked off the kilometre markers as we made our way through the fields, trees, and hills until we were trotting around the lake and on the home straight almost ready to pass on the baton to the next person.


As I climbed up the last little incline and around the last bends, big spots of rain were starting to fall so I dashed to the end as quickly as I could to pass on to Des who would start our team’s third lap. It was about a minute or so after I waved him off that the heavens really did open! Dashing into a nearby gazebo for cover, the spirits weren’t dampened too much as I chatted with fellow runners and thought about how I hoped the trees were shielding Des from the worst of the rain. 


After what seemed like a life time, the rain wasn’t letting up and my endorphins were dwindling. Along with some of my camp mates we trudged back through the field and to our camp. I quickly became a bit too cold and remembered all the reasons I’m not particularly a fan of outdoors and camping. This feeling was accelerated somewhat when I went to the tent to get changed to find that our bed, tent and bags were all flooded! 


It’s a bit strange in between laps really. By the time I greeted Des back from his rainy mission I still had a good few hours until it was my turn to go again so I decided to try and make the most of my soggy tent and airbed and get a bit of sleep to top up the few hours I’d had the night before. I’m not sure whether I felt better or worse when I emerged just over an hour later, just in time to eat a bit of curry before getting ready to head out for lap number two. 


I started to feel quite nervous at this point. My teammate kindly swapped places with me so that I’d be able to head out before darkness but, after seeing a few people return having taken a fall on their lap, I was worried about the conditions of the course. I’m not the steadiest on my feet at the best of times and I knew that what had already been a tough route earlier on was going to be utterly awful the second time around. All too soon I was back in the transition pen, listening to Ian’s detailed description of the tricky bits and doing my best not to do a panic cry as I head back onto the familiar first part of the course.


It wasn’t too bad to start with and I told myself it would be ok. I might even enjoy it as much as I had done my first lap, despite the coating of mud on the ground. Even going up the first tree-lined hill and along the windy path was alright. 


Then the mud came. The proper stuff. The several-inches thick can’t run just slide mud. And it was awful! Who was I kidding, I don’t like trail runs, what was I doing?! Still trying to keep a bit of control and not panic too much, I sort-of fashioned myself some steps out of the mud as my trainers slipped and slid down pathway. Then of course the inevitable happened. I hit the ground with a big squelchy thud. 


I sat, surrounded by mud, for what felt like a good 10 minutes while in reality it can’t have been longer than about 30 seconds. The tears I’d been trying so hard to hold back really started to flow now as I looked around me to find a way of getting up without getting myself even more caked in it. Eventually back on my feet, it dawned on me that I had to keep going to get through this awful mud that I couldn’t even see the end of at that point. More tears.


I must have looked absolutely ridiculous to all the seasoned, fearless trail runners whipping past me as I extremely gingerly took tiny steps through what seemed like an impossible pathway. I willed myself on as much as possible and pushing out all the “you can’t do this” “when you get to the next marshal you’re going to ask how to quit the lap” and plodding on until, finally, I was back on slightly firmer ground. 


I broke into a jog in the areas where it felt safe to do so and passed through the familiar twists and turns as the route wound through the various camp sites and back up into the woods. Even the slowest shuffle-jog was tricky with my legs tired from the early afternoon’s 10km and slightly tender from my fall but I kept going as best I could. 


As I made my way up into the woodland section of the track, darkness was drawing in quickly. Despite the fact that we’d switched the plan around so that I would get the last of the sunlight, the additional time I was talking meant that before long, it was completely dark. I’ve never ran in a headlamp before and the bobbing about of the light-beam as I moved was annoying enough, that’s without mentioning all the creatures it attracted! I had so many things flying towards me that I felt like I was in some awful video game constantly trying to flip and flap them away. 


Just to summarise the scene here: I’m in the middle of some woods in the pitch black, my legs hurt, I’m being attacked by the cast of bugs life and I’m stressing because I’m worried my team will be annoyed at how long it’s taking me. So of course I’m crying as I carry on making my way through what’s become a combination of my least favourite things, slowly checking off the miles as I extremely gradually find my way back towards the lake and into the campsite. 


At this point I found a determination to get it done. Willing the battery on my watch not to go flat (imagine going through all this and it not even being on Strava) and fuelled by the high-fives of campers lining the final few hundred meters of the route, I managed to find something to get me through to the end of the lap. It was done! It had taken me longer than some of the half marathons I’ve done in the past, but bloody hell the most mentally and technically tough run I’ve ever done was over. I was so relieved to pass the baton to my team mate, really trying not to seem too traumatised as I offered advice on the route and sent him off on his way. 


Des had been waiting at the finish line for well over an hour, wondering if he’d missed me coming back and where I was. As soon as I got to him at the end of the cross-over tunnel the floodgates really did open. Everything I’d been trying (and failing for a lot of the time) to hold back while I completed my challenge came tumbling out. Tears of relief, frustration and exhaustion. I had just about pulled myself together by the time we arrived back to our friends as base camp and promptly started to cry again as I relayed my tales of woe to them. I couldn’t even stomach the pancakes I’d so been looking forward to a few hours ago. 

Before the tsunami of tears

Over the next few hours, several of my team mates arrived back at that change-over area with their own stories of tumbles in the woodland, including Des when he returned. Despite the terrible conditions though, our teams, along with hundreds of other runners carried on through the night, ticking off the laps pushing through the challenges put before them. 


I went to bed. 


Much like the weather, things seemed a lot brighter the next morning. It goes without saying that I had firmly decided that I wouldn’t be achieving the three laps I had originally wanted to complete. But after a few hours’ sleep and with an abundance of tasty sausage and bacon cobs laid on by Dawn, I felt content with my effort. I’d done two laps, one in conditions I wouldn’t have even thought about attempting if it wasn’t for being part of a team. I reckon I’d done alright!


With the 24 hours almost over, the excitement surged as we all prepared to go and meet Ian so the team could run the last few hundred meters with him and all cross the finish line together. This part was the absolute highlight of the weekend, an army of DOrunners armed with our Nottingham flag, powering on together in the highest of spirits until we reached the finish line. Loads of sweaty smiles and hugs followed, and of course some photos! 

Team DOrunning DO Thunder Run 2018

Without a doubt, one of the best things I found about the race is that the field of runners is completely different to any other events. There are people at every stand amongst you, some may be doing their first and only lap, powering along through the fields of the tricky course. Then there’s the solo runners aiming on doing 100+ miles, taking it all in their stride with a huge challenge ahead of them. There are the quick team runners chasing a podium finish and the team runners who are really just there for the social camping weekend with their mates. Everyone has their own reasons, their own challenge. But unlike a ‘normal’ race, because of the relay laps you all become mixed up together – and it’s fabulous! 


On reflection, despite how awful my second lap was, it was still a fantastic weekend and something I’d recommend to any runner in a heartbeat. The experience of all being there together, all with different challenges and motivations is made even more enjoyable by the novelty of being away with your mates for the weekend. It’s essentially a festival for runners! 


Will I run it again next year? I’m still undecided. If there was a guarantee that every lap I did would be like the first, then definitely. But being a natural worrier, I would no doubt spend weeks before the event panicking that it will be like the second again. Either way, I’ll almost certainly be going along to support my friends so never say never. And I’m sure that I do have three laps in me….

DONE!!!

Round Sheffield Run

The Round Sheffield Run has been on my radar for a year or two and so decided to go for it this year. I really liked the idea of having something on the race calendar which was completely new and not like anything I’d done before – a good motivator to keep the mileage up in between Benidorm at the start of the year and everything I’ve got booked in the autumn. 

Like a lot of the events I book tend to, this was sort-of in the distance for ages then all of a sudden it was weeks away and I needed to really get some miles (and hills) under my belt. Aside from a couple of 10km events which I’ve not quite managed to get written up I’ve not particularly managed to get any really long miles in. This is partly down to the upheaval of starting a new job and also just because the weekends and long run opportunities seem to have flown by and disappeared. This even included one particularly awful Sunday where instead of doing the 10 miles I had planned I took a few steps and had a full emotional breakdown and just about managed a part run, part walk, part cry 5km spurred on by an extremely patient Des! 

Despite this, I’m feel the fittest I’ve felt in about a year and have been seeing my average paces coming down nicely and so yesterday morning as we set off on our way to Sheffield I tried my best to push any doubts to the back of my mind and focus on how much I’d been looking forward to this race for the last few months.

There were 5 of us from my running club who made the journey, all relieved that the weather had cooled somewhat since Saturday. For anyone not aware of the Round Sheffield Run, it’s a really unique event in that it’s split into 11 stages of various lengths which take the runners around various parks and trails on the outskirts of Sheffield. There’s a walking recovery between each section and you get a time for the whole thing as well as times for each of the individual sessions. Everyone is given a coloured bib which corresponds to a starting wave and  I was the first of my little gang to be checking in my timing chip and off on my way.

The DOrunning Sound Sheffield Run contingent!

Stage one was alright. It was very pretty and the atmosphere was great but there was a steady incline which got steadily difficult on my sluggish legs which I just couldn’t seem to get going into any kind of rhythm. By the time I got to the first checkpoint I was really pleased of the 4 minute break.

Stage two. I’d been warned about this, I’d read the description and I’d heard other runners on stage one talking about it – I knew that it was one of the toughest stages in the course and although now looking forward it it, I was glad to know that one of the hardest would be ticked off early on. This positive attitude faded as quickly as the elevation climbed, though! Bloody hell it was hard, it felt almost completely vertical in places! It was still extremely pretty thought and there was quite a nice novelty of jumping over little streams in the woods. Not before time the magic 100m to go marker appeared – however this was the hardest bit of the section! Some bloody brutal steps which we heaved ourselves up under the encouragement of a friendly marshal after some serious perseverance it was done. 

Stage three was my favourite!! I felt like I’d settled in quite nicely by this point, helped by a nice long recess between the stages. It was a gradual down-hill which aided to the recovery from the first two sections. It was nice and short too which helped! 

Stage four was quite nice but a bit tricky. I’m not great on my feet at the best of times, so I’m always extra cautious when on ground that’s slippy and uneven so I felt I needed to take real care as I made my way through the woodland, excited because I knew my family were likely to be at the end of this section.  I always forget quite how much of a boost it gives seeing friendly faces and this time was no different – I had given up and intention of running for a good time on the clock so hung around chatting for a bit before I set off on my way to the next section. 

Section five. Oh my! It starts half way up some extremely sharp elevation which sees the runners climbing up some steep steps in the middle of some woodland. I was starting to flag a bit by this point and I don’t think any words can do justice for just how hard it was – even photos don’t completely show it! This stage seemed to go on for absolutely ages as well, twisting and turning though the welcome shade of the woods in the mid-day heat, dipping in and out to let quicker runners pass me until eventually I heard “finally” behind me and there was Des! Luckily just the 100m to go sign appeared at around the same time so we used the next walking break to spend some time together, plodding up a hill before we were again greeted by my smiling family. 

The photo doesn't even nearly do the steps and incline justice!

If I’m honest, the next couple of sections are a little bit of a blur, even though it’s only been one day since the event! I was really struggling with heat and general fatigue and, not for the first time during this run, I really started to wonder whether I could complete it. I honestly think the only thing that kept me going was the thought that even if I stopped, I’d have to get back to the start/finish anyway where all my group would proudly be wearing their medals. 

I had a word with myself and dug deep to carry on. I was ticking the sections off despite how hard it was – however a real spanner in the works came when I got to the second and final water station to find there was none left. Bloody awful flash backs to London last year set in and so did the panic. I was shattered, I ached and I had been looking forward to this water for a good two miles. Really needing to gather myself I came up with a plan and put in a call to my family to meet me further along with supplies. I just had to get through a couple of relatively short sections – simple. So I took it steady and tried to put how shitty I felt to the back of my mind, chatting to fellow runners where I could to help. 

Thankfully, a very kind marshal at the end of the next section gave me some of his water which I sipped at along the next recess so I felt much better by the time I reached stage 9 (I think). I’m so pleased I had a renewed bust of energy which allowed me to fully appreciate the vast Sheffield skyline which sprawled out ahead at this point – accompanied by the most forgiving downhill on the entire course. Even better when I was greeted by my family and some ice cold water at the bottom!

Again, the photo doesn't do it justice! You can see the lovely downhill sloping off too.

I felt pretty jovial as I made my way through the next recess, knowing I ‘only’ had a 2.2km and a 400m stage left! Dobbing in to stage 10 I picked up the pace a bit and headed up the incline presented to me with a renewed sense of determination. For a little bit anyway. Then it just turned into more bloody never ending hills which fortunately had some cheerful marshalls stationed strategically to help with motivation and directions for what seemed to be a way more than ‘just’ 2.2m and even more woodland steps! 

Finally, I suddenly realised I recognised what I saw in front of me! This was it, the end was in sight! Only 400m to go, through the path I’d taken into the park all those hours earlier, only this time being clapped and cheered in by the hundreds of runners who had hung around, my family and the rest of my running club who had all finished well ahead of me. 

Dobbing myself in (or should that be out?) for the final time and bowing my neck to get my medal feeling a wash of pride, relief and exhaustion wash over me felt fantastic. It was another one ticked off the list – one completely out of my comfort zone and a whole 15 miles altogether!! 

Relieved to be finishing! 

I am really glad I did this one. It was really good to do something completely out of my comfort zone as I can be really guilty of playing it safe and sticking to what I know. It was hills which I’m not fond of, trails which I find tricky and the whole course was about 2.5 miles longer than I anticipated. 

Hills hills hills!

It helped massively that the marshalls were fantastic, right up until the end too. As someone who takes quite a lot longer than some people to finish events, it’s not uncommon for the last few marshalls to be showing signs of being fed up and wanting to go home. This absolutely wasn’t the case yesterday though, and it goes a huge was in helping make the event more enjoyable. If they’d have just had enough water at that station I wouldn’t have had any negatives at all (apart from the ridiculous hills, of course!) 

Next stop, Robin Hood Half Marathon! Training for that begins now :)

The obligatory medal shot with a well earned pint!

Waddling around Wymeswold

It felt a bit strange heading off to this one on my own – I’ve not been to an event on my own for nearly two years now! It was a bit of a last minute booking, I had looked at it quite a while ago but didn’t sign up to it until a few days before when I realised it would be a nice way to slip an event in between other bank holiday weekend plans. My running had been going really well for the first time in ages so I thought it would be a good little test to get a time on the board. Plus I really liked the idea of a five mile distance as it was something I’d not ran in an event before. 


Despite the mention of hills on a few of last year’s reviews of the race, I was really looking forward to the run. The set up was great and easy to navigate – lots of free parking a short walk from the number collection and starting area. The event is part of the village’s annual Duck Race Day so the locals were out in force enjoying the sunshine which gave a really lovely community atmosphere. 


I’m not too sure how many participants there were at the event, but it was a perfect amount to give a fantastic start line buzz while not being too cramped or busy as we headed over the line and through the cheering crowds as the race got underway. 


I knew it was going to be an out and back course and that was part of the appeal when I signed up as for some reason I quite enjoy that style of route. So as I made my way over some of the first few inclines, I managed to keep a really good pace by reminding myself that although they were tricky, I’d have the ease of running down them on my way back towards the end of the race. With this in mind, the first mile ticked by quickly and fairly pain free. 


The second mile was a bit different. The hills carried on and my enthusiasm for them dwindled somewhat. I kept running as much as I could, trying to distract myself with the absolutely gorgeous scenery but stopped for a few walking breaks, conscious that I didn’t want to burn myself out in the first half in the race. 


When I signed up for the run, I had in my head that I wanted to complete it in 55 minutes – an average pace of 11 minute miles. It’s no record breaking speed but it’s a long way from where I was at the start of 2019. As I carried on struggling to get to the half way point and the switch back, I saw my average pace slipping further away from that mark and started to think that I’d compromise with myself and be pleased with anything under an hour. 


It was a huge motivator seeing the faster runners coming back the other way and after what seemed like an age, I was one of those going around the tight bend and back towards the start line. Finally over half way! At this point, the struggles of the first half started to fade away, my favourite songs started shuffling on my playlist and I started to feel really good. This was probably helped somewhat by the forgiving downhills which I’d been dragging myself up just a little while before. 


Trying my best to keep focussed as I watched that average pace start slipping back to where I had originally planned, I carried on building speed and gradually kept catching up and then passing groups who I’d been watching in front of me.  I want to emphasise here that it wasn’t about competing with these people – it was entirely about me being pleased and a little surprised as I saw my watch stabilise itself in numbers I wasn’t used to seeing anymore. 


As I entered the final mile, I knew I was back on track for that 55 minute goal. Still enjoying the downhills, soon I was back amongst the cheering crowds of locals with the finish line coming closer all the time. Finally, I crossed it just about bang time! I was absolutely delighted as I collected my momento t-shirt along with a very welcome Freddo bar from the smiling volunteers. 


All in all, this was an excellent little race and one that’s definitely on the list to return to (probably with a good contingent from DOrunning) next year. It was a really good price with all profits going to the local Community Responders, very well organised and supported with a route that was a good challenge without being brutal. So glad I made that last minute entry. 

All smiles ready to go!

The big 50! Hitting my first Parkrun milestone

Four years ago, as part of my training for my first ever 10km race, I decided to give Parkrun a try. I can still remember the day well – I made myself go even though it was raining and I was nervous because I wasn’t too sure what to expect. I wrote a post about it at the time which can be found here.

This weekend saw my 50^th Parkrun event – that’s 50 times I’ve dragged myself out of bed on a Saturday morning to go and run a total of 250km which I’ve done across lots of different locations up and down the country. I even ran on Christmas day and did a New Year's Day double this year!

For those not familiar with Parkrun, it’s an event which sees thousands of runners set off at 9am in parks all over the country (and rapidly spreading across the world). At the end of the run you get a little token which gets scanned in along with your barcode then an hour or two later you get an email telling you what time you completed the course in along with lots of other stats. Amazingly, this super-slick operation is completely free to attend!

These days, my Parkrun experience couldn’t be more different than the rainy day back in 2015! I used to turn up alone, run alone, go home again. Now, just like running in general, Parkrun is a social occasion. During the week, we arrange which location we’ll be going to with informal polls between our friends. Normally there’s some logistics planning to make use of car sharing, particularly when we’re doing a bit of tourism (more on that later!). Sometimes, I’ll complete the whole run with Des or one of our many running friends – and if I do find myself running alone I always end up chatting with fellow runners on the way around. After we’ve ran, we’ll head for breakfast together, extending the event into the late morning to really kick the weekend off.

Then there’s the tourism! We’re really lucky in Nottingham because there are loads of events within around a one hour drive from us. I’ve just about ticked all of those off now, each one as friendly and welcoming but on a variety of terrains, elevations and back-drops. Further afield, we’ve based several running club away days around Parkrun locations, including a trip to Leeds and one to London. I even managed to get to a Parkrun in Dublin following a very early morning flight last September!

Of course, Parkrun wouldn’t be possible without the fantastic volunteers who help out each week to make sure the event runs safely and without a hitch. I did my first stint as a volunteer as part of my running club’s takeover last year and have done a few different roles since then. I even volunteered at my 50th on Saturday by writing the run report (you can read that here!) It’s a great opportunity to give something back and I’d recommend anyone to give it a go.

So now it’s time to start ticking them off towards the next milestone of 100 runs! With new locations launching on a regular basis and plans to visit more cities to take advantage of their courses, I’m looking forward to seeing where the next 50 runs take me!

For more information on Parkrun, visit www.parkrun.org.uk

Sun, sea and staying up too late! Benidorm Half Marathon 2019

Where to start with this one?! 

This race has been on my bucket list for ages. I love Benidorm and have visited most years since I was about thirteen. In more recent years, each visit involved a couple of extremely hungover trips out along the promenade to get the all-important running tourism Strava logs. So, when I opened my Birthday card from Des back in August to find he’d booked it as a surprise, I was absolutely delighted and counting down the weeks!  

Before Christmas, I really fell out with running if I’m honest. After collecting some impressive medals in the autumn, almost as soon as I’d finished the Worksop Half Marathon I almost completely lost interest. Not helped by a combination of dark nights, cold weather and not having anything too close to train for, my mileage plummeted heading into the festive season.

However as the new year approached, and with Benidorm quickly getting closer, I decided I really wanted to give it a good go. Having checked the previous year’s results, I knew that I’d need to pull my socks up quite a lot if I wanted to make the cut off and complete the race. So for the first time in ages, I had made myself a plan, scheduled the long runs in and was determined to get to the start line and be confident that I’d done all I could. 

So ignoring the cold and the dark, I set about running every day in January which, although scuppered a bit by being poorly, gave me a good boost. My training had been decent, spurred on my seeing my average times slowly but surely reducing. And as we boarded the plane (following a stint in the all-inclusive airport lounge) I couldn’t wait to get to one of my favourite places to do one of my favourite things with a gang of some of my favourite people.  

We arrived at our fantastic air BnB at about 11pm and decided we should have a little walk out to ‘go and see’ what was going on in Benidorm. Before we knew it, we were in a kebab shop at 5am having had far too many cheap vodka and diet cokes and with tired legs from dancing along to Benidorm’s answer to the Bay City Rollers. Not quite in the training plan and definitely not ideal for the night before race day!

Somewhat unusually (and fortunately for us, considering the previous night!) the run didn’t start until 6.30pm on the Saturday. After a relaxing afternoon collecting our race bibs and eating an almighty carb fest, it was time to head to the starting point. And for some reason at this point I became a huge bag of nerves.  

I think sometimes, it can be worse standing on the start line knowing you’ve prepared that standing there planning on winging it. But as quickly as the nerves has started, the excitement came back being surrounded by crowds of runners with some fantastic songs blasting out to get everyone motivated and ready tackle the 13.1 miles which lay ahead.

One of my favourite things about organised races is being able to run down the middle of roads which are normally cluttered with cars – and this was no different. Starting off along one of Benidorm’s main roads, listening to the rhythmic pounding of everyone’s trainers combined with the clapping and cheering of spectators helped the endorphins to kick in nice and early. I soon settled into a nice pace and enjoyed the view of the sun setting over the sea, ticking the kilometre markers off as I made my way up towards the old town.

After a short, sharp hill and a bit of winding through the Spanish street, the route took on a long out and back along the promenade of the old town. I always enjoy bits of a race where you can see the faster runners as scanning the steady stream for a friendly face provides a welcome distraction, and best of all I managed to spot Des just before heading down and turning away from the other runners.

With the kilometres still ticking along quite nicely and in exceptionally high spirits, I soon started chatting to some of my fellow runners a bit. Picking out some ladies from another running club local to me as well as talking about past races and hopes for this run with some others. The temperature had dropped to a comfortable level, spectators were 2-3 deep in some parts and I knew I was nearing the end of the first lap on track for a decent 10km time, ready to repeat the whole thing again and complete the half marathon. I felt really good and was soon heard the shouts of my parents and some friends willing my to carry on and get the job done.

There was an excellent buzz around the finishing area as the 10km racers completed their own challenges and those of us doing the Half headed off onto our second lap. But then all of a sudden it seemed very lonely on the big wide street I’d set off down an hour before surrounded by others. I still felt alright but I was starting to dip, so I slowed to a walk to take on a bit of water and some a few sweets for some sugar.

I hadn’t realised quite how many of the people around me about a kilometre before were dropping off at to 10km point until I realised there were only a couple of us around now. I managed to stay fairly jovial until I realised there were two bikes behind me, with little flags declaring “times’s up”… it’s fair to say at this point the panic set in.

Would I be pulled off the course? How could I face all my friends with their medals if I didn’t manage to finish it? Could I even be bothered to race these stupid bikes and finish it? All sorts of questions started whirring around, not to mention the huge self doubt I’d be spending the last five miles of the race fighting off.

I plodded on as I always do, putting in a bit of a spurt when I could to push ahead of the looming bikes and reminding myself that I was doing OK and that I’m fully capable of running a half marathon. This time, instead of merrily ticking the markers off, I just willed myself to get to each one. In time, those bloody biked passed me and I didn’t get kicked off the course which I was relieved about but still stayed slightly wary in case they changed their mind and came back.

Finally I reached the 10 mile point, really flagging with heavy legs and the energy from lunchtime’s carb-fest long depleted. Even ‘just a parkrun’ seemed like a bloody long way still to go but I did my best to keep in my head that even if everything in the world went wrong in those final miles, I’d be done in 45 minutes at the absolute most. 

It was that tactic that helped me to keep going through those final few miles. First it was 45 minutes at the most, then 40 and so on. All the while knowing that if I managed to keep running and not stop to talk, those minutes would be smaller and I’d be finished quicker.

Staying positive got particularly tough running back through the winding streets of the Old Town – the hundreds of spectators lined up cheering behind barriers on the first lap were now freely wandering all over the course. This left me and some fellow runners dodging and diving on less than nimble legs to make our way through the crowds and onto the final straight.

Dashing (well, probably shuffling/plodding/crawling) back past my personal support crew, I knew I only had a few hundred meters to go. I was shattered but I was nearly there! Seeing Des’s smiling face waiting at one of the last corners gave me the endorphin rush I needed to keep going through what seemed like a never ending finishing area, running past the line to then double back and run down the other side and finally over the finishing line!

In the end, I made it in a time of 2:44:03 making it my quickest half marathon in about a year so I felt quite content as I sipped the ridiculously welcome free cup of Coke Zero given to me in the finishing area. All-in-all, it was a great experience. Being at the back of the pack is never going to be easy, but I still surprise myself sometimes how much I manage to persevere and see it through.

And of course we all did plenty of celebrating after the run, taking in the ample Benidorm nightlife and partying into the not-so-small hours. We’re already planning next year’s trip and I already can’t wait!