I am a marathon runner! VM London Marathon 2018.

What. A. Day!

I can't quite believe that it's all over, after the months of training, anticipation, nerves and excitement, it's all done now!

I don't really know how to start properly with describing the day, so the beginning seems like a good place. And I promise I'll try not to waffle on too much.

To be honest, I was a lot more calm in the final few days than I expected to be. I'm a huge stresser and worrier but as the marathon got nearer, I was loads more excited than nervous, and I was right to be!

The first thing I've got to mention is the heat. After months of harsh cold winter training, British Summer decided to show its face at the back end of last week. And as the marathon rapidly approached, all over the news and weather were the predictions that Sunday 22nd April was set to be the hottest London Marathon on record. Just my bloody luck!

To some extent though, as I made my way from Greenwich Train Station and up through the park with a friend from Running Club and some friends of his, the warm sunny weather just added to the joyful, festival-like atmosphere. The buzz in the runners' area was like nothing I've experienced, we were all in it together and the day was the final hurrah of months of hard work... we had this!

All too soon it was time to get in the pens and it all suddenly started to feel very real. Surrounded by thousands of nervous runners I'd by lying if I said I wasn't feeling it too. A huge roar from the crowd let everyone know the clock had stuck 10 and Queenie somewhere over the other side of Greenwich pressed a big button for Mo and his gang to get started. And we waited.

We waited and waited then shuffled forward a bit then waited some more. It was almost 45 minutes before I finally crossed the start line but the rush of energy and excitement once I had was unreal. As I made my way through the streets lined with spectators to the sounds of cheering and various bands playing there was a real party atmosphere. It was great!

Aware of the relentless heat, I slowed my pace right down and took it all in. I was never going to be world record breaking so pace wasn't a huge worry to me, I'd much rather enjoy the day. As I bounced my way round the London Streets I was doing just that.

The first key landmark en route is the famous Cutty Sark, a magnificent restored ship always promising hundreds of eager spectators. As with the rest of the marathon so far, it did not disappoint! To be honest, that part was a little bit smaller than I expected, but it passed by and I got excited in the knowledge that my family would be waiting for me just a couple of miles down the road.

I carried on trotting round through a few little twists and turns and was horrified to see as I turned one corner a rather large Derby County FC flag. Seconds later, I noticed Des and my family just in front of it and...well video evidence which I won't publish here shares the sentiment I had for that Derby flag! But a photo I will publish shows how happy I was to see Des (and the rest of them) and I can be heard shouting between expletives how much fun I was having before I carried off on my very long journey.

It was shortly afterwards that things started to go wrong. Starting to tire somewhat in the heat I, along with thousands of other runners, were devastated to find at mile 9 that the water station had completely ran out of water!!! All too soon the great endorphin rush was overshadowed with panic and the worry about when, during the hottest London Marathon on record, we'd get another drink.

Slowing right down into a walk, I started to share words of disbelief with other runners "Can't believe it" "in this heat" "they said there'd be enough" echoed around with one man angrily encouraging the spectators to tweet about what was happening.

Really really feeling the heat now and worrying about when the bloody hell I'd get to another station with stock, I decided the best thing to do was put out an SOS message to the family Facebook chat group. Then I got my head down and got on with it as best I could, all the while with the uncertainty in the back of my mind and my pace reflecting it.

Eventually I got to my support crew at about mile 11, I was even happier to see them this time! They, like many spectators around them, had got loads of water from a local shop for me and my fellow runners. I've never been so excited to see a bottle of something non-alcoholic! The heat had been really getting to me so I took Dad's cap and carried on with my journey, feeling a little perkier.

As I carried on plodding through the streets of London, thoughts turned to the next key landmark I knew wasn't too far away, Tower Bridge. Everything really beginning to hurt now, I was willing myself on to get there as that was the part (other than the finish of course!) that I was most looking forward to. Struggling through, trying my best to keep an consistent pace, it was at this point I had the pleasure of running with Harriet, one of my fellow Girlguiding team. We nattered away a bit and all of a sudden turned a corner and there it was!

Heading towards the magnificent structure, I heard a familiar "KKKKAAAAAAYYYYYYY" in the distance. As if this bit wasn't amazing enough, one of my best friends, John waving madly at me! I skipped over the road to him, so excited to see another friendly face, gave him a big hug and a few happy tears and once again trotted off on my way.

All runners love a selfie, and at this point I couldn't resist. Keeping my pace as much as possible I whipped my phone out and quickly shot, the result (below) was a pretty fab photo! With a new rush of endorphins I flew up onto the bridge, something I've dreamed of running over for years and really soaked in the fantastic atmosphere. This was made even more brilliant by another friendly face from my running club cheering from the side of the bridge.

Before I knew it I was hitting the half marathon mark, I was half way there! Shit, I had to do all that all over again, on legs that were already tired, feet that were squealing and hours and hours after I had a good porridge re-fuel. This is when it started to get really hard and the enormity of what I was doing hit me.

To be honest, miles 13-18ish were fairly uneventful. The crowds were still great, everything really hurt and my pace was getting ever slower. With no major landmarks to look forward to and not seeing my family for ages, this section was without a doubt the hardest bit. It was impossible to ignore the runners either side of the road here and there taking assistance from the hundreds of volunteers waiting to help.

I still had a long way to go and it was increasingly feeling like my legs weren't my own. I never for a second thought I wouldn't finish but bloody hell these miles went on forever! I seemed to be stuck in that no man's land between reaching the half way point and getting to the last third running round endless Canary Wharf streets.

I don't know why or how, but somewhere around mile 18 I got a bit of a second wind. Everyone around me doing a combination of walking and running by this point, from somewhere I got a burst of energy and didn't stop for a walking break for ages. It was definitely helped along by a sort of tunnel of charities (including the Girlguiding cheer squad!) and as I encouraged the crowd to cheer then cried a bit as they did, I started to feel like I was in control again.

The next few miles were again fairly uneventful, still bloody hard but with that faint glimmer of "I'm really the top side of this now" I started to look forward to seeing my family and Des again as I knew they wouldn't be far away. Scanning the crowds looking for them was a really helpful way of taking my mind off the pain I was in, and the determination for them not to see me walking kept me running which helped too.

I finally reached the stretch of road where a couple of hours before I'd plodded down one side watching the speedy runners glide down the other and before I knew it there were the faces of my five favourite people in the world, I was so so happy to see them! Hugs and kisses and more tears ensued (along with a warning to Des that his forehead was burning!) This time I swapped Dad's hat for a Nottingham flag and off I went to sort this Marathon once and for all.

Despite the jovial tone I'm trying to keep here and the rose tinted glasses I'm definitely wearing writing this a few weeks on, I can remember being in an absolute world of pain. I've never been good with it, to be honest I'm quite mardy. But I am bloody stubborn in equal measure and it was that stubborn determination that kept me going as I went back past tower bridge and into the final few miles at long last.

I think I cried for the vast majority of the last two miles. I cried for such a huge mixed bag of reasons. They were happy tears definitely, I thought about how far I'd come (both literally and mentally), and as the crowds were willing me one, perfect strangers smiling and cheering my name, I was like a tap that just wouldn't turn off. I couldn't help but be extremely reflective as I came to the end of the biggest challenge of my life and the tears kept coming as I made my way down the embankment, focusing on the view of the London eye which I knew meant I was so close to the end.

Turning into the mall is like nothing else. You're running on that reddish road you've watched thousands of runners make their way down on the telly but nothing can really prepare you for it. By now the pain of the 25 miles I'd ran already insignificant I ran through those last metres proudly holding the flag of my beloved Nottingham behind me. I don't think I've ever had such a huge smile on my face.

I came level with two other women about 400m from the end, and an excited spectator shouted to one of them "I love you soooo much, you've got this!!" Well, that was it, me and my two new fellow runners were in floods. I turned to the strangers next to me and said "We have, we've got this, we've bloody done it" as one of the other women said how beautiful it was seeing families and loved ones supporting each other.

From nowhere I managed a sprint finish (which was in reality probably as far from a sprint as possible without sitting down) and before I knew it a kind smiling lady was putting a big heavy medal on me and I had "Well done" coming from here there and every where.

As soon as I gathered myself enough I took out my phone and rang Des. I'd done it, I'd bloody done the best thing I've ever done and I needed to tell him all about it!! After just about holding it together while I spoke to Des, he passed the phone to my Dad and as soon as he said "you're not crying are you" the flood gates opened again. He cried, I cried, and I put in my order for "a pint, a glass of wine and a Pepsi Maxx in that order before I hung up and went off in search of my bag which I'd parted with what felt like weeks ago.

By this point, I was in such a haze that I couldn't even work out which lorry I needed to get to and must have looked pretty pathetic hobbling round, a snivelling mess. Eventually I got there, so happy to see a different pair of shoes that I said straight down to change into them.

Now, bit of advice here. If you've just ran a marathon DO NOT SIT ON THE KERB. I think getting up from there may have been the hardest part of the whole thing, blooming heck who knew the floor was so far away!

I need to draw this blog to a close at some point or I'll be waffling on forever. I feel like as this bit marks the end of the actual marathon I should do here really. I could go on about the pain of walking down the steps to the delayed tube, or about the sheer delight and seeing Des and my family when I got back to them. I could definitely talk about how after a week of abstaining and 26.2 miles later, how magnificent my line-up of drinks was. But I think I've gone on long enough!

So that's it, I'm a marathon runner!!! It really was such a fantastic day and went straight in at the top of my favourite days ever. It's the ultimate on the running bucket list and I've done it!

London Marathon - you were fantastic!!

Five days to go!

In many ways I really can't believe I'm properly into the final stages of marathon preparation. Months ago when I got the phone call and swiftly accepted the place, late April seemed like an absolute age away. Even at Christmas it still seemed a long way off, yet all too quickly it's days away and I've somehow got to run a bloody marathon in just five days (and one of them is almost over!)

I wanted to sit and get this blog out before I go into full marathon prep panic mode because I want to do it well, it's a post I've been making mental notes and planning ever since that day back in October. It's my thank you post.

First and foremost, I need to thank Girlguding for giving me the opportunity to run the London Marathon, something thousands of people each year dream of doing. But not just that, and perhaps more importantly I want to thank all the women I've met throughout my life as a "Girl Guide" many of whom have been fantastic influences on me. Regularly when the training has been tough I've thought about them and in particular how amazingly proud I know Nita would have been of me for taking on this challenge. Thinking fondly back on many of the memories - especially from the sunny August weeks spent in a tent at Walesby Forest - has also provided me with some good giggles to keep me going.

Next is anyone who has been to the fundraising events in the lead up to the big day. Everyone who braved the Baltic Yorkshire temperatures back in December at Bleak House Farm for the fabulous horse gala, it was a lovely day despite the chill and everyone was so wonderfully generous and kind. Then there was the hugely fun Race Night at the Venue where once again the pockets were deep and this time the beer flowed, thank you for coming along to support my cause - I hope you had as much fun as I did!

And speaking of The Venue, thank you to Sandra, Ness and Tony for letting me have the event and for your kind donation, I'll be wearing that logo with pride on Sunday and I can't wait to show off my medal next time I'm in! And thanks in general to all the "pub lot" for your continual support and encouragement.

Also on my vest on Sunday is WriteOn - thank you Jo and the rest of the team for your support, it truly means a lot!

Then there's Wastecycle. The logo is on my vest in anticipation of a donation once my finishing time has been confirmed - £5 for every minute sub 6hrs is a great motivator! And thank you to my fantastic colleagues who have brought cakes, books and taken part in the sweepstake, it's great to know you're behind me!

My fantastic running club has been invaluable during the training. Through their knowledge, advice and continual humour they've been an absolute God-send. I'd love to name you all but I know I'd forget someone so just know that I'm truly greatful to you all for everything you've done and said to help me - and the kind sponsors are a bonus! We are without a doubt the friendliest and best running club around!

Thank you to everyone who has read, liked, shared and commented on my blog and social media posts. In particular my wonderful and supportive bunch of Aunties, I'm so lucky to have you! No matter how much I post people have a positive reaction which has kept me reassured that I'm not being too much of a marathon spammer.

On the subject of marathon spamming, a special thank you has to go to the lovely Sarah Bryan, my work bestie who sits with me for 40 hours a week. I'm sure she must be sick to death of hearing about running but she does nothing except listen, smile and give me some of the best words of support I receive.

Huge huge thank you to everyone who has donated! I've absolutely smashed my target ad I couldn't have done that without each and every one of you, thank you!

And finally there's Mum, Dad, Des, Simon and Katie.

When I say I couldn't have done it without you lot I absolutely mean it. For everything you've all done and your continual support in every way there aren't words to thank you enough. I promise I'll try not to be too mardy or stroppy in the last few hours before the marathon. I can't promise I won't moan after though...

This is it then. My next post will be the race write up... here it goes!!

The Rob Lathall Field Mill to City Ground 18 Mile Run

It’s been no secret in my recent blogs that things haven’t exactly been going to plan. So with the London Marathon drawing ever nearer, a run I spotted via Facebook seemed perfect for getting things back on track – 18 miles from my home town of Mansfield essentially running back to West Bridgford and my beloved City Ground.

I already had in my head (and written on a loose plan) that Good Friday should involve somewhere around 18 miles so it was great coincidence that this run meant Des and I would both be able to run sort-of together but at our own paces in the company of other people – and there was the added bonus of it helping out a couple of charities too.

Good Friday soon came around and the long-run prep took place as usual, this time with the addition of a hydration backpack which is something I’d never used before therefore adding another thing to worry about! (I needn’t have, it turned out to be just fine once I’d got used to the sloshing!)

We arrived at Field Mill greeted by a handful of other runners and founding members of my Fan Club – Mum and Dad – who’d came out into the cold to wave us off. After a bit of nervous standing round and an obligatory pre-run photo shoot it was suddenly time for the off before I’d even got my GPS watch going!

I headed out on the route with a group of women and as we began up the first hill toward Sutton we had some little bits of chatter, the standard “How far have you ran before” “Are you training for anything at the moment” type comments all runners use to strike up conversations with each other.

Those first few miles were more hilly than I’d anticipated having spent some time studying the route map beforehand. It was tricky but not entirely unpleasant and I was kept company by a really pleasant chap who was making sure I didn’t fall too far behind the pack.

As we reached the first main check point of the Badger Box a friendly group of ladies said they’d make sure I kept with them and wait for me when I needed it – I was greatful of that and didn’t realise at that point just quite how much waiting I’d be making them do!

The first six miles ticked away fairly steadily, but as we ran on I could feel that niggly ankle reminding me it still wasn’t right and by mile seven I was having to walk a fair bit, wincing now and then as I got a pain here and there when my foot landed. I pushed on encouraged by the ladies whose names I was slowly picking up as we headed through Hucknall and toward Bulwell.

No sooner had my ankle eased off though did the bloody blisters start. I really don’t know what’s happened over the last month but for some reason my feet just seem to have turned against me and became ridiculously delicate! I could feel the familiar burning sensation in the arch of my foot and spreading but determined to get this run done I pushed on, albeit walking much much more than I’d have liked and running very slowly otherwise.

But true to their word my new friends didn’t leave me! No matter how much I insisted I’d be OK and knew where I was going, every couple of hundred meters I was greeted with smiling faces and words of encouragement.

The miles still melted away, albeit slower than in the first section. In my head I had that I needed to get to 12 miles… once I was there I was two thirds through and could muster through the final section.

12 miles came and went and turned into a half marathon – I was now officially running further than I ever had before! Still with that burning feeling in my feet all too soon I was at the foot of “prison hill”, a part of the route I’d been dreading since before I set out on the Nottinghamshire trek. Anyone familiar with Nottingham will know what I mean by prison hill – it’s a sharp, steep incline just off the ring-road heading toward Basford. It’s hard work getting up it in my little Peugeot 107 so heaving myself up it 14 miles in was just as tricky as I’d anticipated.

Needless to say, when I finally reached the top I was not alone! By this point I really don’t know how I’d have kept going without the support of my fellow runners, the were bloody fab!

Another hill up and down and before I knew it we were on Mansfield Road and finally properly on the way back! Properly on familiar territory now on pavements I’ve pounded loads of times training for various races. At this point I think the mixture of steady down hills, knowing I was nearly back and the ever-present encouragement meant my pace picked up slightly and it wasn’t too long before we turned on to London Road ready for the home straight.

As we gathered ourselves for a final team-talk where the ladies assured my we’d do the final bit together, I couldn’t help but have a little cry. Overcome with relief at being nearly done, pride at what I’d already achieved and gratitude for the ladies who’d got me through it.. it was nearly all over!

I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to Trent Bridge! As we veered onto Trentside, my home turf which holds so many memories (both running and otherwise) the five of us linked hands to melt away those final few meters to re-join the rest of the pack who it felt like a lifetime since we’d seen back in Mansfield.

Seeing Des’s face beaming at me (he’d put extra miles in to round it up to 20.. and finished an hour earlier than I got back) and being handed a medal and goody bag was such a fantastic feeling.. I’m genuinely surprised at how I managed not to cry again!

Rounding it all off the only way we know how – with a well-earned pint in The Southbank – really put the icing on the cake of a great morning (I’m definitely looking at it with rose tinted glasses now that a few weeks have passed!)

All in all it was a great experience, regardless of how many days it took me to be able to walk properly! Both organised and taken part in my some wonderfully friendly people… I truly think there is something special about the running community.

So now I’m into the final countdown for London, with less than two weeks until the big day! I don’t think I’ll ever fell completely ready but I don’t feel half as out of depth as I did do!

www.virginmoneygiving.co.uk/kayknowles

 

The start, smiles all around!

The route, never realised North Notts was so 'undulating'

The SBRC contingent at the end, still managing a smile in front of the world famous City Ground!

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!