Four weeks to go... definitely did not need an injury to crop up!

I've realised this morning that it's far more awful not being able to run when you want to, than really not wanting to but dragging yourself out anyway.

It's now just four weeks until London and instead of setting my alarm for 7am to go through my beans and toast routine before heading out for a long run, I'm sat in "runner's corner" (the part of Southbank Bar which is taken over by Lycra and fluorescent t-shirts every Wednesday evening and Sunday morning) having just waved off everyone else on what feels like the first sunny Sunday morning in bloody months.

I've somewhat begrudgingly ran in rain, snow and wind during this marathon training and when we finally get a nice Sunday I'm hobbling around on a dodgy ankle feeling jealous, annoyed and pretty deflated.

I don't know exactly what wrong with it, but since I ran on Thursday I've been in loads of pain. I don't know whether it's the pain that's bothering me the most of the accompanying panic that I needed a really good run today to put me in good stead for the 18 mile trek I've signed up to next Friday from Mansfield to Nottingham.

I've always been a worrier, so to give me some actual ammunition and a cause for worry and it's a bloody awful combination, especially four weeks before race day when I need my head to be in the right space. I'm going to have to pull out something special in the next few weeks to give me a very much needed confidence boost.

Right now, I'm trying to think about the next few days rather than the big looming day that is 22nd April, but it's just about impossible. Weeks ago I came to terms with the fact that it's going to be by far the hardest and probably the most painful thing I've ever done... now it all feels like it will be twice as hard and twice as painful and I need to be ready for it in just four short weeks.

Wish me look... I bloody well need it!

And if you could spare absolutely anything and sponsor me, I'd be hugely hugely grateful!

Snow joke... this marathon is getting bloody close

So I've not updated by blog as often as I'd have liked. More importantly I've not ran as much as I should have.

The last four weeks have gone by in an absolutely whirlwind - or I suppose a blazers might be a bit more of an apt description.

Not too long after I did the Turkey Trot, the whole country was thrown into chaos with the arrival of "The Beat From The East" which brought with it snow, freezing temperatures and bloody awful headwinds. In the initial stages, I did manage to keep running - I have Des to thank for that as there's little chance I'd have done it on my own. However after inches of snow covered the country, followed by that horrible slushy ice it turns in to, the days slipped by and before I knew it a week had passed since my last run. And I'd had to postpone one of the key fundraising events I had planned (more about that later!)

Despite the lack of miles, I must admit that when I got my trainers on again it was really really nice to run with fresh legs. Pretty much since Christmas, I've been in a constant cycle of pushing it and getting back out before my muscles (what there is of them) have stopped aching. For some reason late Jan/ early Feb I was suffering with particularly troublesome shin pains but hopefully that seems to be over now!

So things were starting to look up again and I had a weekend 16 miler planned in which I wasn't feeling too bad about. I was aware that more weeks had passed than was ideal since my last long run but nonetheless after a couple of good mid-length runs I was quite looking forward to it.

Then I went for the classic Kay Knowles and did a Saturday drinking session. I got (willingly, I must admit) dragged into the celebrations of Des and many of our friends who took part in a fantastic charity run from East Midlands Airport to Nottingham Castle which raised over £15,000 for Bowel Cancer UK. Quite rightfully, everyone was in high spirits and as one pint turned into two which turned into a glass of wine which turned into a bottle things weren't looking good for this Sunday morning run.

Regardless of the hazy memory of just how much alcohol I'd drank the night before and feeling the wrong side of hungover, I did manage to run on Sunday. I originally set off with two lovely ladies from my running club with a 9 mile route planned, however when we got a couple of miles in I knew it was going to be too much so I decided to head back to base. What should have been 16 miles was 4, but I wasn't too worried because my very vague training plan had allowed for a week's grace the following Sunday so I just had to do a bit of shuffling round and schedule in a new 15/16 miler for the next Sunday (18th March, in case you're having difficulty keeping up).

As the week progressed, I started planning. It was to be the first time in a long time I'd ran such a distance completely by myself which I knew would throw in an additional challenge but I was feeling confident about it as I made sure my headphones and mp3c player were fully charged and ready before I headed down south to visit my friend for the weekend.

During the last week, some news stories surfaced about the return of that dread Beast From The East but as I reached my friend's house on Friday evening in modest spring-evening temperatures I thought it was just another incorrect weather report.

How wrong I was.

I'm getting conscious that I'm going on a bit so I'll skip forward to this evening. I'm sat at home with another weekend gone by involving no long run and I feel completely frustrated, anxious and wondering how the bloody hell I'm going to pull off a marathon in just 5 week's time.

Lots of people did still run today, I'm aware of that. As  the marathon draws nearer, my somewhat completely over the top and irrational fear of falling over seems to have gone in to overdrive and I just don't want to risk it. I've always been clumsy so it just doesn't seem like a great idea.

I'm hoping with a bit of flexibility and annual leave I'll be able to get today's scheduled run on Wednesday so hopefully that will give me a very much needed boost. For the first time in a while I'm feeling very nervous about what lies ahead and wondering why I ever thought this was a good idea. I'm desperate to get back on track and get my "game face" on in time for the big day. Because despite the ups and downs of training, I'm doing this for my charity, Girlguiding and I need to do it wekk.

Which brings me nicely to the other aspect... fundraising! Luckily that's going a little better than training but I've still got a long way to go to get me to the all important target. Thanks to my lovely talented Brownie pack, my sweet-trotted work colleagues and the ever-supportive work lot I'm now over the £1,500 mark. So while it's going well, any extra help at all would be so very appreciated!

If you can spare anything, https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/KayKnowles is the place to go.

Thanks for reading!

The belated Turkey Trot

The weeks have absolutely flown by since my last blog post and the London Marathon is getting scarily closer all the time. Training's going alright, not fantastic but by no means a disaster.

But this post isn't about that!

Back in December, a somewhat small covering of snow meant the 35th annual Keyworth Turkey Trot had to be postponed. I'm not going to lie, I was relieved! I hadn't trained enough and it was bloody freezing so it felt like a get out of jail free card turning off the alarm on that cold, dark winter morning. I did run that day, opting for an enjoyable few miles on an unofficial Southbank Club Run instead of a hilly half marathon.

So feeling slightly more prepared and with the postponed race slotting nicely into my London Marathon schedule I woke up with the all too familiar now mix of nerves and excitement that only a race day can bring.

Unusually, I set out to the race by myself, not wanting to drag my family out when it's still cold and with Des working away. But it didn't matter as the friendly faces from my running club were already congregating when I arrived at the school hall ready for the race to begin.

Already a tad anxious and worrying as I often do, I went into an awful panic mode when the person speaking on the tannoy announced that headphones of all types were banned from the race. Despite running more regularly than ever without some background music, I've never done it on a race day and I have been reliant on some of my favourite songs to get through the trickier miles.

After much motivation and encouragement from my family, I reluctantly handed my headphones in at the bag drop, went for one last nervous pee and joined the hundreds lining up on the start line.

Cheered on by the crowds of locals as the race got underway, there was a lovely atmosphere was we made our way through the village with the first mile buzz of energy pushing us along.

Just shy of a mile in I bumped into a lady I know who was hitting a particularly impressive milestone - he 12th half marathon in as many months, raising money for a fabulous local dog shelter. I ended up sticking with Rachel for about the first half with the race, and I was so greatful not to have to face the hills of south Nottinghamshire on my own!

Flipping heck the hills. I'd been told about them, I'd studied the elevation map and they'd been in the back of my mind for weeks. But I don't think all that had quite prepared me (maybe in hindsight some hill training might have been a good idea...). We decided to opt for the charging up them approach rather than running and tiring ourselves out for the later miles. We ran, we chatted and we powered up hills and despite being hard, the miles with Rachel passed by quickly and were a great pleasure.

Not long after seeing my smiling, clapping friend Sarah at about 6.5miles in, I had to start dropping back. After completing the first couple of miles in sub-10 mins which is unheard of for me in a long run. I was starting to get really fatigued and I needed to keep enough in the tank for the rest of the race.

Carrying on at a steadier pace as Rachel disappeared off in to the distance, the next couple of miles were fairly uneventful. Despite that lack of music I'd been so worried about, I was doing OK being alone with my thoughts in the fresh countryside air. Each water station had a very enthusiastic support crew cheering the runners on and handing out jelly babies which definitely helped.

It was around mile 10 it started to get really hard. I was shattered and near the top of a windy hill when the snow started coming. Well I say snow, it had hailstones mixed in too - they bloody come keen as they hit my cold face but I carried on going. As hard as it was, I knew I needed to keep on gong because the more I pushed the sooner I'd be back.

My legs were really starting to hurt now, I'd been out for over two hours and slowly the aches were creeping in. It wasn't just the aches creeping in either - more bloody hills kept appearing. Gentle in comparison to those earlier in the race but seemingly relentless as the numbers slowly crept up on my watch signalling the end was in sight.

That last mile seemed like one of the longest I've ever ran. If it can be called running - I'm not embarrassed to say I walked most of it! It was up hills and my legs just didn't have it in them. But with one final burst of energy as I tipped over the top of the last hill and back toward the school and the all important finishing line I managed to break back in to a steady jog... just in time to be caught on camera by Des who had surprised me by getting back in time to be waiting at the finish. I'm always pleased to see him but after 5 days apart and 13.1 miles of cold, windy hills I was absolutely bloody delighted!!

It was done!! In the respectable time of 2:32:01 (the second fastest of my three half marathons).

Now a blog post on this year's TT Half Marathon can't be completed without a mention of the somewhat infamous finisher's souvenir. The TT is known for it's preference of a novelty memento as opposed to the traditional medal and this year's was definitely original! Handed to by a rather tall elf as I re-joined the other runners from my club was a small black bag with the Turkey Trot logo printed on, containing a small cloth which I've not quite worked out a use for yet but I'm sure I will do.

So in summary, on paper (or screen... check the elevation map below) this should have been a bloody horrible race on a cold, blustery February morning. But with good company, positive attitude and good organisation and spectators on route, it wasn't half bad! And those Trentwrecked fries and post-race pint back at the Southbank after tasted all the better for being hard earned.

But back to the bigger picture... London is now just around the corner and I've still got a lot of miles to find in my legs and a lot of money to get to my target so please if you can, visit my fundraising page!  

Still managing what can sort of by described as a smile!

This really doesn't do all those hills justice!

London Marathon Training: week one

"I promise to do my best"

I first made this promise when I was 5 and joining Rainbows. I can't remember it if I'm honest but I do still have the certificate somewhere. It features in all the promises for every section of Girlguiding and it's particularly important to me because my late Guide leader who was one of the most fantastic and inspirational women I've ever known always used to tell us "If you know you've done your best, nobody can ever ask any more of you" and something I tell each one of my Brownies at their own promise ceremonies.

So as the reality of what lies ahead has rapidly dawned on me since Christmas, that's what I'm going to try and keep in my head, doing my best.

Since I found out about getting my London Marathon place back in October, I've kept feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. But since we've tipped over into 2018 and after a few weeks of seriously slacking off running while eating and drinking all the wrong things, I'm feeling more than a little bit apprehensive about it all.

Being quite a practical person who works well when I can see in front of me what I need to do, late last week I set about sorting myself a training plan. It's only very vague and it's mainly so I can see how much my Sunday run needs to increased by each week to get those all important miles in. So that's made me feel a little bit better... I do like a plan.

However, due to the drop in mileage since autumn 2017, I've got a bloody lot of work to do to get me to where I need to be. I've found in the past with runs that I've done that writing a plan is the easy bit, sticking to it is where it becomes tricky... Especially if an invitation involving some weekend drinking is thrown my way!

I've come to the realisation that I need to be as strong-willed out of my running gear as I am when I'm in it, and if I need to turn down a night out here and there it will do me the world of good come April 22nd.

In terms of the running itself, I've got to get tougher on myself on the cold, dark, rainy and snowy winter mornings/afternoons/evening when I really don't want to get my trainers on and go. Although since my last blog post my life has changed massively in that I now have the most supportive running partner (and partner in everything!) who I know will be invaluable over the next few months and who'll be there every step of the way and I can't thank him enough for that.

So today was week 1 run 1. It was alright, nothing particularly exciting but it's four miles under the belt and it was a decent pace. Here we go!!

So I can't really round off my posts now without a shameless plug to my fundraising page, the donations and your support really will help me both in motivation and meeting my target.

www.virginmoneygiving.com/kayknowles

Thanks for reading!

Robin Hood Half Marathon 2017

After missing my normal Sunday evening post-race blog writing slot, the last few weeks have absolutely flown by and it's now over five weeks later and I'm only just getting around to it. And because of the time lapsed and the somewhat heavy post-race drinking session my memories of the race are a little hazier than normal which will mean a less long and waffley write up. 

Despite the now very familiar race morning routine, I set about my day on the 24^th September extremely nervous and tetchy. That’s not to say I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I was really struggling with the “what the hell are you doing?!” thoughts. This didn’t really melt away until I made my way thorough the crowds and waited for what seemed like forever to get over the starting line.

Once you get going, it’s virtually impossible not to get swept up in the atmosphere as you break into a job heading through the crowds and over the starting line. Listening to the cheering and clapping as I made my way out of the embankment and out onto London Road, I felt strong, positive and ready for miles which lay ahead of me.

For a late September’s day it was really warm, much more so than any of the recent training runs I’d done. The low autumn sun beating down wasn’t too much of a hindrance for the first couple of miles as I kept to a decent pace, passing the train station and making my way with the runners up towards The Park.

I’d purposely included some hills on my long runs leading up to the event with the distant memory of last year’s Park section at the back of my mind. However this distant memory was definitely fogged by rose tinted glasses – those Park hills were so much more brutal than I remembered! It took some serious pushing to get to the top and tip over onto the extremely welcomed Derby Road downhill. 

The next mile or two was fairly uneventful, the atmosphere was too good, my legs had just about forgiven me for the hills and – despite being passed by a juggling tiger – I was comfortable with my pace. 

For some reason, I seemed to slam into a wall at around mile five. I can’t remember it as vividly now as I did then but I bloody struggled for some reason. Try as I might, I couldn’t get a decent rhythm going – it was hot and hard and I was quickly going into full running-strop mode. It seemed like a complete battle shifting myself down over Crown Island and on through the wonderfully picturesque Wollaton Park. I was really having those “What the bloody hell made you think it would be a good idea” type runs. Awful!

Although this eased up slightly from mile eight onwards, I was still struggling a lot more than I’d have liked and wasn’t happy as the confirmation that there was no way I’d be hitting my target time dawned on me. I did a lot of watch-checking and even more “Come the fuck on, Knowles” chuntering under my breath. 

It was passing the 10 mile marker that I had a good word with myself. I was going to do this, and being mardy about it wasn’t going to make it easier so I may as well get on with it. Skipping though my MP3 player for some of my best motivational music, I sorted my head out and off I went.

Before I knew it I was turning back into the Embankment which seemed even more heavily spectated than when I’d left it a couple of hours previously. I felt my pace picking up as I dashed nearer to the finishing line – waving at my Mum and Nana on the way – and at long last over the finishing line.

All in all I came in at just over 2:33hrs. Not where I wanted to be but I’d done it… again! I had the familiar feeling of pride and relief as I battled through the crowds to find my Mum and Nana and show my medal off. 

The uncharacteristically warm late-September afternoon made for a perfect setting for lots of post-race celebrating (hence why this post didn't get written in the normal Sunday evening slot) which all rounded off another great event day. And there will always be another opportunity to run a PB, let's see what the Turkey Trot has to offer in December!

I'm in!!!!

Today I got a phone call I never expected. Months ago in a moment of madness I decided to fill in an application to run the London Marathon for Girlguiding. I can't even really remember what I wrote on the application, only that afterwards I thought of a million extra things I could have talked about. That was back in May and I've not thought too much about it since then.

That's not to say I haven't thought about the London Marathon, of course! Anyone who has anything to do with the running community will know about that early October anticipation, will it be a congratulatory magazine or the disappointing email? This year 380,000 runners applied for one of the extremely sparse ballot places, so I wasn't at all surprised to find out I wouldn't be one of those running once of the most iconic races in the world next April.

That was until this voicemail message popped up today, a lady from the Girlguiding fundraising team asking me to call her back. I panicked a bit, it couldn't be... could it?!

Well it was!!

I must admit my initial thought was "What the hell there's no way I can run a marathon and raise about £2k. But after a split second I knew I couldn't possibly turn down what may well be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I know it's going to be hard, no doubt the hardest thing I've ever done! But Girlguiding has been such a huge part of my life since the age of 4. It's given me so much... experiences, memories and friends just to name a few so I'm absolutely honoured to be given this opportunity to combine two of my most treasured hobbies in such a fantastic way!

So once again my running blog becomes a training blog. When I first started it as my 10km training blog, never in my wildest dreams would I have thought it would become a story of my London Marathon training experience.... here goes!!  

Taking it easy... it's taper time!

I remember the first time I attempted a 10 minute mile. I can't remember how long I'd been running, I reckon it would have been a couple of months. I was on a treadmill as at that point I hadn't worked myself up to running in the great outdoors. I set about it not really knowing hat number I needed the still somewhat unfamiliar device to be set at, just upping it until I was going as fast as I could then pushing it until I was sure my legs would fall off and my lungs would burst.

I hit the mile in 10:11, and I still think that was perhaps the slowest 11 seconds of my life. I can't even really remember the first time I hit the 10 minute mile if I'm honest, I wouldn't have thought it would be too long after. But for some reason that one failed attempt really sticks in my mind.

Skip (or run...) forward two and a bit years and I'm just entering the taper period for my second half marathon. I always think a lot while I'm running and my steady three miler around Colwick Park yesterday lunchtime was no exception. As my trainers got going, so did my brain and my thoughts trailed to just how far I've come since those early treadmill days.

Strangely, despite all the long run miles I've put in over the last few weeks in preparation for the upcoming race, it was a short run that made me think a lot about the progress I've made. Yesterday, my little trot around the park made me realise the one mile time I was once so desperate for is now something I class as a 'steady' pace for a short-ish run.

I'm not saying it's easy, but instead of feeling seconds away from cardiac arrest I felt strong and in control and just the right amount of uncomfortable.

I know I'll be running a slower than that round the 13.1 mile route on 24th September... but, thinking about how far I've come makes me all the more excited for where I can still go if I keep pushing!