There's no shame in a short run

What a few weeks it's been! Running (and blogging about running) has had to take a bit of a back-seat because of an array of social events, entertaining and somewhat reluctantly turning 25!

Having a crazy and interesting social life might seem like it's all well and good until you realise that your waistline seems to be ever expanding and your bank balance ever decreasing. And that's without even mentioning the effect on the training regime for the looming half marathon.

Despite being pleased with how my training's going so far, I must admit it has become quite same-sih.. Couple of treadmill sessions during the week and a long run at the weekend. It's hardly surprising really, I'm a massive creature of habit, I like order and routine almost as much as I like wine and chocolate. However, due to my hectic schedule this well thought out and ordered plan has been non-existent and I've had to cram in little runs here and there as and when I've been able to.

And I've really enjoyed it.

It's reminded me that running doesn't have to be about precise route planning and careful pre-hydrating. Getting home from work, throwing your gear on and nipping out for half an hour can be just as satisfying.. I even managed to work in a run around needing to pop to the shops! (Needless to say I must have looked like a nutter running around with a jar of mango chutney on the way home).

The next few weeks are looking somewhat less hectic and training will once again be top (or very close to top, at least). My social calendar is pretty clear which is good as I've realised the necessity of reinstating the drinking ban if I want to make it to 26!

My long-run dates are planned but other than that I'm determined to be more flexible with myself and enjoy a quick trot around the streets now and again.. I might even go wild and do some hills!

Ten

This week has vaguely followed a theme around the number ten. I did my first ten miler yesterday, it's ten weeks today until the half marathon and down in London there's been all sorts happening at a house which happens to be the tenth on a particular road.

I've had this weekend earmarked for doing 10 miles for a while, my life is so busy that all my weekend runs up until the Half are already planned, I know what distances I'll be doing and what day I'll be doing them each weekend so that there's no opportunity to think "I'll do it tomorrow" "I'll get that distance in next weekend" etc. And to be honest, after the disappointment of my run last weekend I was quite looking forward to getting back in the saddle so to speak and tackling a distance rather than pace run.

Something I've learned since I've been upping the distance is how important route planning is. It's alright going for an out and back or a few familiar laps when it's a couple of miles, but I've found this is tedious and repetitive on my longer runs. Plus, I like to be able to sort of visualise where I've got left to go as I'm on my way around.

Over the past few years, I've lived in eight different places in Nottingham, which has been extremely beneficial to my route planning. I know several different pockets of the city, what roads link them together and where any nasty hills are. With all this in mind, I set about planning my route for this weekend and spent the rest of the week really looking forward to getting out and running it.

Saturday morning came around and while I was quite looking forward to it, it did seem slightly daunting too. I'm part of a running club and while it is nice to run with others, I just felt like going on my own this weekend, and I'm really glad I did. As I made my way around the perimeter of the city I started thinking about all the memories I've got at the various places I passed. The beer gardens I've spent hours laughing and drinking in, the houses I've been to mad parties at, where I crashed my car, the site where the tower block I once abseiled down used to stand, a couple of places I've lived and all the memories they held, another place I crashed my car (whoops). The list is huge and I could be typing all night!

Importantly though, running round the city with a smile on my face thinking about all these things really made the 10 miles fly by! I'm not saying it was easy, but I really really enjoyed it! I'm also especially proud of myself for actually remembering my whole route, I think it's the first time I've not ended up making a bit of it up because I've forgot my plan.

So any of my lacking confidence feelings following last week are at the back of my mind for now. I managed to run ten whole actual miles and I've lived to tell the tale. It's now ten weeks until the race and I've only got another 3.1 miles to pull out of the bag which doesn't seem like a huge amount.

I've got three busy/boozy/birthday weekends coming up now so fitting in my runs is going to be a bit tricky. I'm planned and ready though and I know I can fit in at least 10k at some point each week with the next long run (eleven miles) planned in for Saturday 13th August. I'll be 25 then, flipping heck!

In case you're interested, here's the route...

As always, thanks for reading!

One year on, the good, the bad and the ugly

The good

First things first, a very quick update following my previous post... I did it! The prohibition that is, more about the sub 60 later. I managed 27 whole days without alcohol and I think I'm more surprised about this than anyone.

Also under ‘the good’ is how hard I’ve trained, but again more about that below.

The bad
Now, onto that sub 60. I've trained really hard over the last few weeks. Followed an actual training plan, not skipped any sessions and even did a few short runs after staying out dancing until the early hours in Benidorm last week.

Cobble all this together and, this time yesterday, I was feeling confident and excited today’s Women’s Running 10k race. I could do it.

Well, turns out I couldn't.

I managed to stick tight to the pacer for around the first 5k. This isn't surprising because I've trained really hard for that bit. Endless 5k interval sessions, Parkrun, the lot. I thought I'd scrape together the rest based on the amount of long runs and the distance I'd been covering in them.

What actually happened was that after the 5k mark, my legs began to remind me that they don't naturally go that fast. Also, I've not mentioned yet, but it was flipping hot. I was very hot and very bothered and the second 5k was awful. A real struggle.

Things turned slightly for the last 800m or so when a lovely lady who's part of the same running club as me started chatting to me. I always love chatting and talking to her spurred me on until eventually the finish line was upon us. I didn't have it in me for my normal Usain Bolt sprint finish, but a quick glance at the clock told me I'd ran a PB. But I still wasn't happy, not one bit. There were even a couple of tears.

Since then, I've spent most of today in a strop. But I've just given myself a bloody good talking to while bobbing up and down the pool (decided to go for a swim so I didn't spend ALL day eating).

In the last year I've completed seven 10k races, loads of parkruns and countless miles pounding on the pavements and treadmills. So, I might not have done it today, but I'm sure that I will do. Even if it takes me another year, I'll be frustrated as hell but I'll get there.

It's now the 11 week countdown stage until the half marathon. I'll be doing regular updates again to motivate me through my training and attempting to generate sponsors for my chosen charity, the Royal British Legion who I'll be starting my fundraising for in the very near future. Again, this time last night I was feeling confident and excited for the half, however, this evening it's more nervous yet still excited. I think.

So that's where the name change of my blog comes from. I've been trying to think of something for months since I knew I'd be passing the 10k mark and today it hit me (with the help of a t-shirt I saw someone wearing.) I'm an okay runner, and I think I'm okay with that.

Apologies for the waffle, once again I didn't think I had much to say! Thanks for reading.

The ugly
If you've got this far down and you're wondering how I'm going to fit in talking about the final part of my title, you've clearly never seen any photos of me while running...

PBs and Prohibition

It's been a few weeks since my last blog and there are a couple of bits and bobs I wanted to put down on paper (or screen if we're being picky about it).

Generally, it's been a really successful few weeks with my running. The Nottingham 10k gave me a real motivation boost and has made me more determined than ever to hit a sub 60 10k. My next race is five weeks away now and until the last week or so I'd been quite confident that I could do it. 

I've had quite a few PBs since my last blog post, namely:

• Completing Parkrun in my best ever time of 29.13. I've done treadmill 5ks quicker but that's my best non-interval training time
• Hit 8min mile for the first time. It was the only mile I did that day and I couldn't have kept up that speed for long but I did it! 
• Ran my longest ever run at 13.17 km (just over 8 miles) with two lovely ladies from my running club. 

I think this has been helped in no small part by actually planning my training - something which I've not massively done before. A big bit of this has been scheduling in some interval training which I've never bothered with because I always thought it seemed too much like hard work. However, I think it's finally clicking that if I'm going to improve, it is going to be bloody hard work. 

Which brings me on to the second 'P' of my blog title. Prohibition. I know I've mentioned in blog posts before that I love a drink. Whether it's a glass (who am I kidding... a bottle) of wine after a long day at work, a pint of strongbow in a beer garden or a vokda and lemonade to celebrate the weekend. 

Despite how much I love a good drink, it's becoming more and more clear that drinking and running just don't go together. It's far too easy to abandon long-run day in favour of Netflix and feeling sorry for myself after a pot or two the night before and equally, I always seem to struggle if I run within a day or two of a heavy one. 

It's now 24 days until I jet off to Benidorm with my family, and ideally I want to lose the best part of half a stone before then (well really I want to get rid of 2 but that's looking less and less realistic..). It's also car insurance month in June which is a massive burden on the old bank balance! 

So all these factors lead to one thing really. A 24 day drinking ban! I'm cheating a little bit because it's not like I had any huge social plans which I'll be rocking up to sober, but any any plans won't be involving alcohol (well, not for me anyway!). I really want that sub 60 10k and I know how annoyed I'll be at myself if I don't think I've trained my absolute best to get there. 

Here I go then, 24 days and counting!! 

Psycho, hills and a personal best!

Ever since the inaugural Nottingham 10k was announced last year I've been looking forward to it. I love the city, and the chance to run through some of its streets in the company of an absolute legend (Football legend Stuart Pearce, not to be confused with the other Nottm Legend, Robin Hood) made for a very exciting race.

Originally, I had planned to do a couple of spring races under my belt before this one, but life, post xmas poorness and that bloody injury had other ideas. So all in all it's been six months since I pinned a number on myself and set off on my merry way with hundreds of other runners.

I woke up on Sunday being about 80% excited, 20% nervous. It was a huge relief to see the weather was decent and I had all my family en route to cheer me on, yet I couldn't help being a tad nevous I'd have a repeat of last week's feet fiasco!

As I got into the city there was a fantastic buzz about the place. I don't think I've ever been into town at 8:30 on a Sunday before, but I expect it's usually a world away from the hive of activity it was this week. As usual, the pre race hour went by in a flash and it was time to get in the starting position. As I walked past the rows of runners ready and waiting I quickly noticed this was the biggest race I'd done competitor-wise, it's not a great photo but here's the gathering (and I was only about half way down).

After what seemed like an age, it was finally time to get going. It started with the normal awkward shuffle to the start line and then the attempt to break free from the crowds and set a good pace. A couple of hundred meters in and all was going well, I'd trotted up towards the castle, down into the park and was making my way though some nice leafy streets.

Then I turned a corner and before me was what felt like the biggest hill I've ever seen! Who ever had the cruel idea to put that in there is completely evil! To show I'm not being dramatic, here's the incline map...

Told you it was a big hill, check the ones at the end as well!!

One lucky thing is that as my running has progresses, I've got a lot better at running down hill, so I do find those bits quite fun now at least.

The middle 5k of the race was fairly uneventful. It was lovely how many people were outside their houses in the Meadows, clapping and cheering. There was even a drummer band at one point, I'll miss them next time I'm galloping around The Embankment. I won't miss the warm spring sunshine which was beating down, though!

As I reached the final few kilometres, I got the now familiar endorphin rush and the "Come on, Knowles, you've got this!" feeling. And it was a bloody good job because as you'll see from my earlier diagram, the last bit involved a lot more hills. Fortunately, it also involved lots of clapping and cheering (and that was just from my endorphin-drunk self...). Despite being difficult, meters ticked by quickly and before I knew it I was flying past some of my favourite watering holes and back down into market square.

I'd been avidly checking my watch all the way around, an I knew I was bloody close to a PB so, in proper Nottingham speak, I bloody 'legged it' down the road, past Primark and over the finish line.

My official time clocked in at 1:02:13, a personal best by about 40 seconds and ever closer to that sub 60 mark! Needless to say, there was lots of celebrating for the course of the afternoon.

Next event (I think) on the running calendar is the Women's Running 10k in July. I'm really looking forward to it as it will be back to where it all properly kicked off last year. It's a good, flat course and one I know back-to-front so I'm absolutely determined to get that sub 60... watch this space!!

One Kay runs more than 10k!

I didn't think I was going to bother with a blog post this week, but there have been a couple of little bits which I wanted to mark so here I go.

Firstly, one of my favourite things about Facebook is that it tells me what I was doing on any given day on each year since I joined. Mostly I look through my old posts and cringe, but now and again it has its uses (not least when I've forgotten a Birthday or similar!)

This week, Facebook reminded me that it had been a year since I first started this blog, also meaning it's a year since I decided I was going to make a go of this running thing. To be honest, at that time I had barely any intention of still running now. I signed up for that race as much to try and raise money for a good cause as I did to find myself a new hobby, but such is the running bug that I now fully love it (most of the time) and can't imagine what I'd do with all my time if I didn't run.

So here we are a year on and I'm pretty chuffed with myself on all I've achieved over the last year! Which leads nicely to the second thing I wanted to mention, I now officially need a new name for this blog as I no longer run 10k.. that's so 2015!

I set out on yesterday's long run wanting to do 9km ahead of next week's Nottingham 10k race (which I've not mentioned but am really looking forward to!). I'd vaguely planned where I was going to go, veering off slightly from my normal laps of the Embankment which I'm getting a bit bored of and heading down the Big Track following the canal path.

So I set about my business, headphones in, water bottle in hand and off I went. It was warm but not sunny so decent weather and a couple of kilometres in I was really enjoying myself, so I decided I was going to go for it and wouldn't go home until I'd passed my previous best of 10km.

It ended up making quite an interesting route with a decent mix of the calm of the canal path and the busy city Saturday morning comings and goings (that's without mentioning the strange man rolling around on the floor at one point..) However I couldn't help but notice a really uncomfortable burning on the underside of my foot.

I'm the first to admit that when it comes to pain, I'm very mardy. I don't like pain, I moan a lot when I'm in pain and I generally do all I can do avoid it. So perhaps the biggest triumph of this run is that despite being in bloody (literally!) agony by the end of it, I kept going. I even did several weird route changes, hair pins and loops until I got to my front door at bang on 11km.

Endorphins are a great thing. As I strutted thought my front door absolutely pleased as punch with my longest distance to date, I ignored how much my feet hurt while I set about messaging anyone who'd listen to tell them how happy I was with myself (I do like bragging!)

It wasn't until I peeled my socks off and saw what the damage was that I realised how in trouble my feet were. I don't have the prettiest feet at the best of times, but my God they're in a right old state at the minute!!

As soon as the post-run endorphins wore off I started moaning and I've not really stopped since (remember I said I was mardy!) I'm just keeping everything crossed I'll be ok next week as I've been looking forward to that race for months.

I think I've waffled on for long enough now.. here's a map of my longest ever route, incase anyone is interested! I've even put my splits on even though they're not my quickest (I'm not all brag afterall)

Thanks for reading, I'll be back next week with a race write up!

El runningo! (which probably isn't the Spanish word for running)

When you take the stereotypical English holiday maker (I'm thinking booze, beaches and sunburn) it tends to describe my holidays very well. I've seen Sticky Vicky more times than I care to remember, paid ridiculous prices to get into some of the world's best clubs in Ibiza and I'm embossed with a permanent reminder of a crazy week in Magaluf.

My most recent Spanish adventure wasn't too dissimilar. Despite the fact I was visiting my Nana, I still managed to put away plenty alcohol, I burnt in the unfamiliar (it's been a long winter) sunshine and I played bingo. All typical English holiday behaviour!

However, this year, another activity was added to my itinerary. Despite being hand-luggage only, I squeezed my trainers in my case quite excited at the thought of trotting around by the sea.

To be honest, there isn't a huge amount to report about each of the two runs I did. One was 3.5 miles and the other five, each one keeping fairly steady 10min-mile paces along the Spanish promenade. I was quite pleased with myself for keeping a decent pace, I had half expected to find it more of a struggle in the heat and considering I've not exactly been training loads.

It's much easier (and no doubt more interesting) to share the photos I took rather than try to describe everything, so hear you go!

Clear blue skies

Not sure who this lady is

Sweaty and with no make up, classic run selfie!

A gang of cats

Might have thought I was Rocky running up these...

Despite the heat I really enjoyed getting some miles in, my running gear will definitely be top of my list when I'm packing for the next holiday. After all, it balances out the mass of unhealthy holiday activities I take part in!