Never give up

This time three years ago my running was coming along nicely. No longer a 'new' runner, I was training for my second half marathon, I'd recently become a regular at a running club and PBs were a nicely common occurrence.

This time two years ago things weren't looking quite as good. I'd not long since completed the London Marathon which was brilliant but my average pace had seen a gradual decline - due to a combination of injury, weight gain and general runner's fatigue I think. Instead of breezing around our summer 5km loop, if I bothered at all then it would be a slow slog, often cut short in favour of the 1mile version of the route.

This time last year I all but hated running. I'd been stuck in a rut for what seemed like forever. While I did enjoy the group runs I went on, looking back I could barely manage a mile without stopping to walk and solo running just didn't happen. 

There are so many times over the last couple of years that I've felt like giving up. When everyone else seems to graciously speed off with ease while I'm stuck feeling like I'm running through mud, never making and progress and having no hope of seeing the little bronze, silver and gold "personal record" medals on Strava again.

But I kept going like I always do, partly out of determination and partly because I couldn't bear the thought of people saying "bless her she couldn't do it". As someone who is not only really stubborn but also worries about what other people will think and say, giving up, whether it be at a race, a training run or at running completely, has never truly been an option. It's just not a Kay Knowles thing to do, no matter how much I would like to!

Six months ago, things started to change. With the DOrunning February Challenge set to run at least a mile on as many days as you could, I set my mind to running every day. It was achievable but would need decidication, so it seemed like a great idea. I'd hoped to see progress but never imagined just how much of a boost it would give me! In pace, in motivation and in enjoyment! It was like I'd found a magic switch and all of a sudden I liked running, I was getting better at it and it felt good. 

Today. 

For me, the sub 30 5km has always been significant. Right from the start, it's been a goal and my ability to achieve it (or how far away from it I am) has been a marker of how my running is going at that point. 

After seeing my 5km times drop over the last few months and settle consistently between 31 and 33 minutes, it's felt so near yet so far for a little while now. 

My running is perhaps more consistent than it has ever been. A combination of some great challenges and solidarity runs set by DOrunning, the light nights and nice weather and extra time from having no commutes and none of my normal weekly commitments has meant that I've seen my weekly mileage hit at least 15 almost every week, and often quite a bit more.

I've remembered that I don't need a reason or a running buddy (even though they help!). I can and do enjoy running on my own and without it being planned and part of a schedule. 

This afternoon I decided I fancied it. The sun was out, I didn't run too much last week so my legs are nice and fresh and my new headphones arrived at the weekend and I was keen to try them out. 

I set off for a blast around the river. By far my most common route. I know it inside out, back to front and inside out so I dodnt need to think about anything other than moving my feet and breathing. And today, each of those came with ease. I quickly settled in to a comfortably uncomfortable pace, enjoying the light breeze while feeling the sunshine on my face. 

My watch buzzed to say I'd done one mile in an excellent time. Now I had to hold my nerve. Often, when I do a good first mile during a 5km I panic for the second and slow down so that I don't wear myself out. I told myself that wasn't going to be the case today.

Mile two announced it was done even quicker. I was tired but I had some left. Concentrating on my breathing and trying not to obsessively check my watch too much, I carried on moving my legs as fast as they'd take me. 

I got to a point where I knew I was going to do it, it became all about the bonus time now! Willing myself on down the path I've ran on so many times before, two miles turned into three and I just had that final .1 to go. By now I let myself watch the numbers melt away until finally I'd done it! Finally, after more than two and a half years I had ran a continuous 5km in less than 30 minutes. YES!!!! 

So that's why this post is all about never giving up. It's about not giving up in the moment, but also not giving up on the long term stuff either. To be honest, I'm not sure if I thought I'd ever get back to where I am now with running, but I know there's no way I'd ever have stopped trying!

So what's next? I think the next milestone for me is the (virtual) Robin Hood Half Marathon at the end of September. It's such an important event for me for so many reasons and I'm in pretty much the best place I've at this point of training for it, so there's no way I'm going to let having no spectators and no medal stop me giving it my all this year!

The tale of 2020 so far

January – lacing back up

This year started how the last couple have – with very few winter miles in my legs. Once the excitement of the autumn race season is over, it’s easy to fall out of love with running as the nights draw in and the temperatures drop. Throw in lots of time spent back and forth to hospital with an increasingly poorly Des and a few other obstacles, the result was between November and December my Strava was looking somewhat bare and neglected.

So what better way to get things off to a good start for the year than with a double parkrun on New Year’s Day! This was something I’d really enjoyed last year and, particularly as we had planned a purposely quiet and relaxing New Year’s Eve, I was looking forward to giving it a good go again this year. Once again it didn’t disappoint – the somewhat bleary-eyed crowds gathered, first to tackle the hills of Gedling before dashing over to Colwick, with that ever-friendly and welcoming parkrun atmosphere. Crossing the line and collecting my second token of the day, I was delighted to add up my two times and realise I’d completed the pair around five minutes quicker than last year, great motivation to kick of the year! 

DOrunning at Colwick parkrun

February – RED revelations

With a good base set in January, I was really excited to embark on the DOrunning monthly challenge for February where we’d been tasked with racking up as many points as we could by running a minimum of one mile for as many days as we could. I decided I was going to run every day, come rain, wind or shine. Unfortunately, there was plenty of the first to and hardly any of the latter!

Being a somewhat reluctant runner a lot of the time, I normally find it quite easy to think of excuses that mean I can’t possibly run on any given day. Too busy, too tired, messing up the hair-wash schedule – you name it, I’ve sacked off a run because of it! So in the past, I’ve found running streaks helpful because it strips all that away and reminds me that if I really want to, I can get out every day – even if it’s only for a quick 20 minutes or so.

It was during this month that something quite unexpected and almost seemingly magic happened. For the first time in about two years, my pace started falling consistently and as my pace fell, my motivation grew – I couldn’t wait to get out and see what I could do!

With my new-found enjoyment somewhat tarnished by a race looming at the end of the month, I made the decision to just have the one spin around Benidorm this year and take up the 10km option instead of the half marathon. I wrote a post about that at the time, you can read it here.

So the month reached a crescendo with the Benidorm trip which rounded off 29 days of running in the most fantastic way! The race didn’t disappoint and the whole experience was just as fantastic as last year, even with the addition of the ‘highway to hell’ half way through the route…an awful and unforgiving hill section which the organisers made just about bearable by adding strobe lights and a somewhat camp devil dishing out high-fives to the runners! It was months ago now but I still intend on doing a proper write up of that race. 

All ready for the Benidorm 10km

March – what next?!

I think the term “what next” can some up the month of March for so many reasons!

Returning from a great weekend in Benidorm a little worse-for-wear to say the least, I knew I needed to think about some new running targets to build on the good foundations from January and February.

It was around this time that things started to all go a little bit funny! I don’t think I need to go in to it, but before I knew it my living room/dining table became my office, our beloved running clubs had to be suspended indefinitely and family and friends became little square pictures who lived in my laptop.

By the end of March, my mileage has dropped to around half of where I had been in January and February – not helped by a week of being “not quite right” so purposely laying off the running in favour of rest. Motivation dwindling, I ended the month with a very tricky 5km where I needed to stop for walking breaks regularly. This was the kick up the arse I needed to get my act together a bit before I completely un-did all the hard work I’d done during the year so far.

April – no fools here!

With races being cancelled left and right and long days at home with nothing much to do, I knew I needed a good target or there would be a danger of very little running happen. I also knew there was a very real chance of being told at any point that running wasn’t going to be allowed for a short while, so I felt like I really should make the most of it.

All things considered, the only sensible thing to do was once again commit to running every day in the month.

There’s not too much to report from this time around really – the climbing temperatures made it a different challenge to February’s endless storms and rain and I was never going to knock about 60-90 secs off my average mile times, but the days ticked by without too much trouble again and I ended the month feeling good.

Most importantly, I was really enjoying my running again in a way that I haven’t done for a very long time.  

A deserted city centre - one of my favourite runs in April

May – blistering heat to match the blisters on my feet

With my newly resurfaced love of running, I skipped into May feeling positive. I didn’t have any particular plan for the month, just a loose target of maintaining around 15 miles a week. The month got off to a fabulous start when I did a strong 10km without any walking breaks, something it’s been a very long time since I last managed!

May brought along the first race-like experience since Benidorm – something which seemed and age ago by now! “Running From The Heart” had originally been planned for February, but we had to postpone it due to storm Dennis. At the time, we chose May for the new date because it seemed far enough away that weather wouldn’t be an issue…we’d never have guessed we’d be battling against a global pandemic instead!

Since lockdown came in, Des has been arranging ‘solidarity’ runs for DOrunning, where we all run on our own at the same time, normally on a Tuesday evening when we’d usually be running with the City Slickers group. It’s proved to be a great success and a fantastic morale booster, so we decided to turn Running From The Heart into a similar style. At 3pm on Saturday 16^th May, myself and around 50 other people scattered across Nottingham set off our own starting guns and head out for a 10km run.

Des and I decided to run it together and it turned out to be a great motivator to keep me going. At about half a mile in he started getting a little bit ahead, just enough for me to keep chasing him for as long as I could as we dipped and dived between the socially distant walkers along the paths by the river.

I was delighted with my just-about sub 1:05 10km by the time I’d finished, but well aware that I had the all too familiar burning feeling of a blister forming on my foot.

If you’ve read any of my old posts, you’ll know the trials and tribulations I’ve had with blisters – it always seems to be when running’s going well!

So I hobbled home, cleaned it and dressed it and decided that, while we don’t have the commitment of a couple of running clubs a week, I’d let it rest completely until it was better. In the past I’ve tried to keep going using a variety of platers, dressings and other ‘guaranteed to work” remedies that absolutely didn’t work and I think ultimately prolonged the time I had to deal with uncomfortable and painful runs.

Using the last week of May to slowly build up again after a full week off, I ended the month feeling pleased with the consistency I’ve built up, the solid pace that seems to be sticking around and feeling more comfortable with each run.

Smiles all around at Running From The Heart

June – looking forwards

So today, on Global Running Day, I am one content runner.

As we move towards the half way point of the year, I feel strong and ready to start increasing my mileage and looking towards the autumn half-marathons I’ve got booked in. To be honest, I think there’s a very slim change and mass-events will go ahead this year but I still fully intend on running the 13.1 distance at least once this year. I’m excited to see what I can do if I keep going full steam ahead in the way that I have done so far.

I’ll be keeping up the good habits I’ve formed with getting the monthly miles to a good level and I really hope my motivation sticks around. I know that summer can be difficult for fitting the long runs in with lots of social plans to normally work around – but I’m sure that by keeping my long term goals in mind and remembering how great it feels to finally see some progress, I’ll be able to keep working at it.

I feel better about running than I have done in years, and I’m running better than I have done in years… I’m really not sure which came first but I’m going to enjoy it and make the most of it!

Decisions and down-grades - Benidorm 10km it is!

I made a decision today after spending a lot of time thinking about it over the last few days. Although running in general is going well at the minute, my long runs haven't been as consistent as I'd like - some have been decent and others have been a struggle. One was even abandoned after a two-mile shuffle and cry! 

If I knew I had as much time as I needed to keep plodding through 13.1 miles at whatever pace I can manage, I'd  give it a go. But last year they were strict on the cut off and I had the 'time up bike' behind me to completely mess with my head for the second half of the run, coupled with running on roads that had been opened for the last mile and a half.

So, instead of spending the next week fretting about having a repeat of that, or worse being pulled of the course and marked as a DNF. Instead of potentially having a bad run affect how much I enjoy a long weekend in one of my favourite places with lots of my favourite people. I'm going to go over to Benidorm and smash the 10km option instead of scraping through the half marathon.

I'd already pretty much made the decision, then this morning the race organisers shared on their social media that 10km places had almost sold out. I had a bit of a flap about getting it sorted (thanks for the help there Mum) and so I knew my decision was made.

I think I'm writing this post as much to explain it to myself as anyone else really. It doesn't really matter to anyone else, although a lot of the reasons I've dithered over it for so long is worrying about what other people might think. As a slower, bigger, completely not-natural runner, I think a lot of the time I feel like I've got something to prove. 

But ultimately, running is something to be enjoyed. So I'll be on my way to Benidorm next week, excited for a 10km run without a worry or stress! 

Brittany Runs a Marathon - what it reminded me about running

Last week I watched Brittany Runs a Marathon, a film recently released on Amazon Prime. I had seen a few adverts and quite a few of my friends had watched and enjoyed it. To be honest I wasn't sure whether I wanted to watch it, it looked like it was going to be a 'fat girl gets fit and thin and fabulous' story line and that irritated me a bit, because obviously you don't have to be thin to run a marathon. But as we sat down one evening Des suggested we give it a go...and I'm so glad we did!

I really don't want to give any of the plotline away in this post, but it really is a fabulous film! For so many reasons, I could relate to Brittany and her running journey and I felt compelled to write a post about it. So here's my take on some of the key points in the film mixed in with a few of my own experiences!

Some people won't 'get' it

Whether it's the turning down a night out because you need to get your long run in early the next day, or if "it's still weeks until your race, missing one run won't hurt", some of your friends won't understand your commitment to your new hobby. Even years down the line, they might not 'get' that your going for a run because you actually enjoy it.

Some friends will do their best to be supportive...until you're being a "running bore" and saying no to the glass of wine. 

While it can be disappointing, don't let this throw you or put you off. Focus on the those who are there, willing you to get over the line! I'm lucky in that the support from my family has been amazing every step of the way throughout my running journey. Unfortunately the same can't be said for some of my friends!

People will make flippant yet offensive comments

As someone who is never going to be the fastest runner, this one is particularly true for me. From the 'not a serious runner' to the jokes about finish times passed off as banter, it can be so disheartening when you put everything you've got into something to then feel like it's being dismissed on some level because you didn't to it quicker.

If being a runner (especially a slower one) teaches you anything, it's resilience...and this can be applied to both the actual running and the thick skin needed for such comments.

Running friends are fabulous

Someone once said to me "nobody ever starts running because they're completely happy with their life". While that sounds a bit harsh, it means that people who run are a special bunch. It makes them completely empathetic and endlessly supportive, I have met some of the best friends I have through my running club...not to mention meeting Des!

Added to this, the conversations you have while trotting along together are often deep, honest and refreshing. You learn a lot about people when you run a lot of miles with them...and you'll find yourself laughing non-stop too!

You'll start to feel indestructible... but you're not

One of the hardest things about being a runner is the forced breaks when illness or injury strikes! You've got through the early stage where you look at more accomplished runners wondering when it gets easier. You realise that it doesn't get easier, you just learn to love it. You start to really really love it, you feel strong and proud and you can't wait to keep pushing yourself.

Then you're struck down, it could a sprain or strain or a case of the flu. In my case it was a drunken mishap which resulted in a soft tissue injury. Whatever it is, you'll be miserable, irritable and generally a bit of a pain in the arse.

But what you also find out at this point is that a week or two on the bench won't mean you'll lose everything you've been working towards. So hang on in there!

There'll be at least one point when it seems impossible 

To be honest there are likely to be loads. One run that springs to mind here is at some point in the January/Febrary of my marathon training. I had planned eight miles, scraped myself through to about four then sat on a bench and had a really good cry for a bit. If I couldn't manage eight, how would I ever manage 26.2 in just a couple of months?!

Then there's the actual race! I'm stubborn, so I knew that unless I got injured or took ill then I'd be completing that marathon. But when you're a long way in with a long way to go, your mind plays horrible tricks on you and every mildly negative comment anyone has made dances around in your head. 

But you do it, of course you do! Which leads me to my next point...

You will cry

At the film, at your own finishing line, and if you're like me, several times during the race for a little bit afterwards!

I've always been a cryer, I normally get a couple in during a half marathon. Usually it's happy tears with a mild disbelief at what I'm doing/have done. Sometimes it's sad ones, when those negative niggles take over a bit, but the fantastic thing about running (and being surrounded by runners) is that the next supportive pat on the back, kind word of encouragement or just a sideways smile is never far away and always helps to sort you out and get you to the end.

The finish 

There's no feeling quite like getting over the finishing line. For me, it's usually a mix of relief, pride and slight disorientation as you stumble over the finish line, collect your medal and scan the crowds for some familiar faces.

Even when I've crossed a line adamant I'm never going to run again, it's not usually too long before I'm searching for the next event to take part in. From the medal collection to the list of cities I've ran in, each race has a story and special memories, and building those quickly becomes addictive.

I'd recommend the film to anyone, whether you run or not. It's a fantastic feel good watch and it's made me think a lot about my own running and the journey from when I first set about this hobby almost five years ago now. I'm still in the process of deciding exactly what my running plans are for 2020 and whether or not I've got another marathon in me...watch this space!

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!!!