Tag: athlete

Mountains and Moire – A Review of Bump, Bike and Baby

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BBB_Cover

Recently I was contacted on Twitter by Moire O’Sullivan, who asked me if I’d like a copy of her new book, Bump, Bike and Baby to review on my blog. The 300 page publication charts her journey from mountain race runner to mother of two and back again, and after a very quick Google of Moire I rushed to say yes. I’m an avid reader anyway and am always on the lookout for kick-ass women who inspire me to push myself just that little bit harder.

Spoiler alert – I’m going to go a bit fan-girly.

To give you a bit of info, Moire is a bonkers tough mountain runner and adventure racer. As she brought up her two VERY young children, she went and won Ireland’s National Adventure Race Series. Three times. And that’s an adventure race series – not just a single race. I repeat – THREE TIMES.

Adventure racing isn’t something I’ve ever given much thought to. Being from the Fens mountains are few and far between. My legs nearly went into shock after doing the Parliament Hill Cross Country run. But Moire does events that involve cycling, running up a blinking great mountain and then back down again. Then cycling some more. Then a bit more running. Ooh and let’s throw in kayaking and then a swift 2k sprint to the finish. She’s usually moving for about four hours. Just thinking about it makes my palms sweaty, but this is Moire’s life blood, and her passion is more than just a little infectious.

DAR 2016_Bike Mass Start

Her character comes across so strongly in this book and never wavers. Moire is unapologetically stubborn, determined and competitive. She is upfront about the fact that she was never especially maternal, and the desire to have children had mainly come from her husband Pete. As a result, she is completely committed to staying at the top of her racing game during and after pregnancy, whilst learning to become a mother to two boisterous and demanding boys. The book covers living in Cambodia, cycling with a 6 month bump, running with mastitis, Pete regularly having to travel with his work and hospital stays. Throw in Moire’s strict adherence to her training schedule and it’s a recipe that on paper shouldn’t work. But it does, and the resulting family dynamic is all kinds of wonderful. Plus they have a cute dog. What’s not to love?

Quest Glendalough Podium 2016

This is going to be one of those books that I can see myself recommending whenever anyone asks me about my favourite running books. Moire is a natural storyteller, and this is going to appeal to athletes and new parents alike. In the book she talks about thinking of her fellow mountain racers digging deep when things get tough, and I can see myself thinking of Moire’s mental toughness next time I find myself flagging on a run. She makes me want to be a better athlete.

Bump, Bike and Baby can be bought from Amazon amongst others, and you can follow Moire’s blog here. Thanks to Moire and Sandstone Press for asking me to be part of the Bump, Bike and Baby Blog Tour!

_Bump Bike and Baby Blog Tour

 

The Glorious Pain of Parliament Hill

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I don’t consider myself a cross-country runner. I’ve always been more at ease on the road, more sure-footed when I don’t have to worry about rabbit holes, grasping thorny hedges and routes mangled by tractor tyres (a sure fire way to get me turning the air blue on a run). Each time I’ve done the Ely Runners Christmas run I’ve stacked it with considerable flair, and have found the terrain really bloody tough.

So why, dear reader, did I agree to sign up to run the National Cross Country Championships at Parliament Hill? Because I am a blithering idiot who gets swept up in the enthusiasm of others. Plus the blighters got me at a weak point. At the start of the year I knew that the Cambridge Half Marathon was going to be a no go – getting back up to 13 miles was just too much pressure to put on me and my foot. But a 5 mile trot around Hampstead Heath? Well that sounded just peachy.

I knew I was in trouble when I told my sister that I had signed up to the race and she laughed. When I told my coach he looked genuinely concerned. Naturally neither of these reactions filled me with confidence. And then in the days leading up to the run I stupidly clicked on links people were sending me of videos of the race, which basically showed a never-ending swell of runners taking what seemed like FOREVER to power up the boggiest incline you ever laid eyes on. In the end, I forced myself to buy my train ticket to London 5 days in advance as I knew I’d be far less likely to bail if I’d already spent £20 to get there.

This video will give you some idea of the scrum you get at the start of the race

After a rather convoluted train journey to London on Saturday 24th February (thanks to engineering works on the line that added nearly half an hour to our journey) we ended up reaching the event a little later than we had planned. Add to this the hunt for the registration tent, the need to change into trail shoes (don’t even get me started on the runners who asked me if I had spikes – of course I flipping didn’t. I couldn’t have been more clueless about this race), and the queues for the toilets, and Celine, Beth and I found ourselves with 3 minutes to get to the start, whilst frantically trying to pin our numbers on. Huge thanks to the fellow runners who helped us as we fumbled with our safety pins whilst simultaneously telling us over and over that we were going to miss the start. Talk about giving with one hand and taking with the other.

Whilst Beth powered to the start (the girl is an epic cross country machine), Celine and I made it with seconds to spare, and I was still tucking my shoelaces in as the klaxon went. I had been advised by various sources to wrap duck tape around my shoes, but there was no way I would have had time for that. As it happens people are split on whether taping shoes is a help or a hindrance, but I was extremely nervous that I was going to lose a trainer as we set off up the hill right at the back of the pack.

And so I started what was without doubt the most bonkers run of my life. That first hill NEVER seems to end, and being at the back makes things even worse as you try and dodge the crowds and their pointy elbows (more than 1100 runners took part in the senior women’s event). But that hill isn’t even the worst bit, because then you enter the boggiest pits you’ve ever seen, interspersed with a gajillion inclines of varying degrees. By the end of the race my Garmin had clocked more than 60 flights of stairs. It’s a full blown mudbath and apparently it wasn’t even all that bad this year. The course is so unutterably bonkers that you just have to go with it and pray that your trainers don’t get sucked into the real life bog of eternal stench*.

At around mile 4 I really thought that I was going to keel over and earn myself a free mud facial. I told myself that I would never, EVER do this again and when I hit the final decline and saw the finish line in sight I seemed to summon all of my inner demons and powered to the finish.

And then the weirdest thing happened. After we had all completed the race Celine asked me if I would do it again. And I said yes without even skipping a beat. Despite how much my legs burned, and how exhausted I felt from the extra muddy weight on my feet and the effort of having to lift my knees higher than I normally would, I had actually seriously bloody enjoyed it. Part of it may have been the sheer joy of running again, and the fact that the weather couldn’t have been better (would I have been so chipper a week later running whilst being battered by the Beast from the East?), but I just loved the challenge. It felt like I had been part of something really special, and next time the run takes place in Parliament Hill I’ll be sure to tie my shoelaces a little tighter, get to the start in plenty of time and maybe wiggle a little closer to the front. Because the competitive arse in me is steaming that I got 40:03, just 4 seconds off getting a time starting with a 3.

And in case you’re wondering, no. I still haven’t cleaned my trainers.

* If you don’t get this reference, go and watch Labyrinth and educate yourself immediately.

A Runner’s Homework and Information Overload

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I am not a happy bunny.

I have half a dozen blog post ideas rattling around in my head, but have I had time to write them? Have I hell. Someone has gone and done a runner with my last two weeks of November and now here I am on December 3rd – for crying out loud – wondering whether my blog should be taken out into a field and put out of its misery.

But fear not fair reader – I enjoy wanging on about my running far too much to give up that easily. I will just put aside watching Stranger Things until these thoughts have found their way onto the page (screen).

So, I am now three appointments in to my time as the sponsored athlete for the Cambridge Half Marathon in collaboration with Saucony, Progress and OSB Events. And boy oh boy have I been set some homework (you can see my first interview with Progress where I look about 60 with a double chin here).

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Gif from Giphy

So on my first appointment with Lauren over at Progress, she had me doing all kinds of squats, planks, intervals on the treadmill and lunges, all to get an indication of what she’s got to work with. The answer? Someone who is more than a bit wonky. Turns out that my left side is significantly weaker than my right, which goes some way to explaining why about 90% of my injuries have occurred on my left (except for the current weird grumbly foot). My calf strength is also at about 50% of what Lauren would expect to see in a runner. It’s a miracle that I manage to stay upright to be honest.

So I came away with a handful of exercises to do, including calf raises on each leg where I have to do them on a step, going right up on to the toes, and lowering my heel below the step as far as I can go, keeping my leg locked out the whole time. I should be able to do 30 on each leg, but I’m managing 16/17 max. I also have to do planks whilst lifting alternate legs off the ground for as long as possible, side planks and dorsiflexion lunge tests. And these are just the exercises Lauren has set me.

I then made an appointment to see Hannah for my first sports massage last week. While part of me wondered if perhaps I should save all of my appointments with her until closer to the race, I rationalised that I have a problem now that is impacting on my training, so I may as well take advantage of her expertise. Now I know Hannah socially as she’s the partner of my colleague Matt (the fitness industry is a small world in Cambridge) and she is one of life’s thoroughly lovely people, as well as being – like Lauren – exceptionally knowledgeable. After she gave my foot a thorough looking over she didn’t find anything to concern her, gave the inside of my right ankle a real hammering (my fascia there was “sticky”), told me to lay off the running for a week and ease myself back in with a steady flat run and then uttered the immortal words “ask Matt about some glute strengthening exercises”.

Now, anyone who knows Matt knows that his training is BRUTAL. His classes at the sports centre are legendary in their toughness and his MetCon class is the only one that I’ve come close to vomiting in (if that’s not a recommendation I don’t know what is). So when I told him that Hannah wanted him to come up with some exercises for me, his little face lit up, and a few days later I found myself in the Team Training Room with him, wondering what the hell I had let myself in for as he showed me my new S&C programme. It’s a crazy mix of a mini circuit of 5 exercises repeated 3 times round, 3 pairs of strength exercises again repeated 3 times round, and another mini circuit of 5 exercises repeated 3 times round. Confused? You bet your (weak) arse I was confused. I’ve got val slide leg curls, banded kettlebell swings, Romanian deadlifts, Bulgarian split squats, pull ups, 20kg suitcase carries and a plethora of other exercises that I can only assume he extracted from the bowels of hell. FYI, I’ll be doing this twice a week. So far I’ve done the programme all the way through once, and I must have muttered “I’m going to bleeping kill him” more than a dozen times. Had I had enough strength left in my arms I might have managed it.

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Notice the evil in his eyes and the cry for help in mine.

I then saw Hannah again two days ago to report back on how my foot had coped after a slow steady 4 mile run and a 9 x 150m sprint session at the track. The answer is pretty well, but I’m now wondering whether the tweaks I’m feeling in my foot are “real” or whether I’m obsessing over the injury and creating a pain that doesn’t actually exist. When I explained this to Hannah I thought she might think I was mad, but she totally got it and started telling me about how the brain interprets pain, and is going to give me some reading recommendations on the subject. She then made me hold a squat for about half an hour (aka 60 seconds ish), watched me run on the treadmill and showed me a routine of foot/ankle strengthening exercises that she’d like me to do every day. Turns out my squat would be the envy of many, and my right foot is hyper mobile which although it not a bad thing, could go some way to explaining the current grumble (hence the need for foot and ankle strengthening).

Flipping heck. As I’ve been typing this I’ve been feeling myself getting slightly overwhelmed by how much information has been thrown at  me and the sheer volume of work I have to do. A daily foot and ankle routine, twice weekly S&C sessions and thrice weekly planks and calf raises, not to mention day to day foam rolling and actually getting out and, you know, running.

During my last appointment with Hannah I think she could tell that I was in the middle of information  overload and she said to me “there will come a point where you’ll want to tell us all to bugger off for a week, and that’s totally fine” and I could have kissed her. Not that I’m at that stage – far from it. But it’s nice to know when I really can’t face my homework I can just run off into the distance for a while (grumpy foot permitting).

The Making of an Athlete

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So, if you’re signed up to the Cambridge Half Marathon or are my Facebook friend or follower on Twitter, you may have seen that I am now the “sponsored athlete” for the Cambridge Half Marathon.

Oh sweet Barack on a Bicycle.

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I am seriously going to miss this guy. Photo by Kevin Lamarque/Reuters.

I’ll  be honest. When I first saw the email I wasn’t sure whether or not to accept. It’s one thing to back out of a race because you’re not fully fit, are nervous about a recent injury or simply don’t fancy it. It’s another to back out when people have invested a lot of time and money in you and your race plan. In other words – you just don’t do that. So if I said yes, bar a serious injury, I would lose my get out of jail free card. But after having to back out of last year’s Cambridge Half, I realised that I would be crazy to pass up this opportunity to redeem myself. As part of the package I get the following from Progress:

1 x 60 min new physiotherapy assessment including run analysis
6 x 30 min follow-up physiotherapy sessions
8 x 30 min sport massage sessions
8 x 30 min AlterG sessions
Saucony Trainers, shorts and a t-shirt

Not to mention working with Lauren Bradshaw, a Specialist Sports Physiotherapist with a half marathon PB of 1:31. What kind of an idiot would say no to that?

When I told my friend Ally (theemiddlesis to the outside world) that I had accepted the prize but that I was somewhat nervous (read: bricking it) about losing the option to bail, she pointed out that that when I have had to bail in the past, I have absolutely hated it. She reminded me of last year’s tears on the finish line when all of my Ely Runner clubmates finished high on PBs, and I was like that tearful drunk at a party bringing everyone else down with them.

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Gif from Giphy

Blooming heck that girl knows how to give you some perspective.

Since agreeing to the role of “sponsored athlete” it has to be pointed out that my running hasn’t exactly been stress free. I have a mysterious recurring issue with my foot that despite physio and osteo appointments, rest and excessive amounts of yoga and foam rolling has failed to really disappear, and I also had a more than ropey result at my first ever Frostbite 5 miler on Sunday. I just got it a bit wrong and blew up in the last mile, my head giving up before my stomach for once (which I suppose makes a nice change) and the last 750 metres turned into an embarrassing walk/run mess. I was so disappointed with myself, but I have never managed to recover when I stop to walk. When my head gives up, that’s it, and it continues to do so for the rest of the run. I managed a time of 36:39, but I should be capable of something closer to 35.

But I know I need to be kinder to myself. I haven’t competed for a while due to this reason, my foot was still a bit grumbly and the terrain wasn’t an easy one. If I heard anyone else berating themselves after a race the way I did I would point out all of the positives and tell them that they were being really unfair on themselves. I suppose at least realising this is a step in the right direction? Right?

And then yesterday, Stacy and I were reunited on the track with the one and only Baldrick. It’s been a while since we’ve been able to have him with us on the track, and the last time Stacy and I trained together a fortnight ago we had an absolute shocker. I felt like it was the first time I had ever run, and I nearly stopped three times on a 400m rep. 400m for crying out loud! And it wasn’t just me – Stace had the exact same experience. But then yesterday, we both smashed the session (a mix of distances), and I ran my fastest ever 400m (although it is obviously a hell of a lot easier when you’re only doing one rep rather than 6). I feel like Alan is my lucky charm, and things are now on the up again. He’s going to get a training plan in place, and together with Progress (I had my first appointment with them this morning – I’ll post about that once my calves have recovered!) I’m going to do my utmost to wipe 2016 from the slate (aren’t we all really) and make 2017 my running year.

Wish me luck.

 

 

Looking for Rainbows and Stars – An Athlete’s Analogy

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So here’s a summary of my health so far in 2016:

  • Death cold from hell
  • Eye infection
  • Mild groin pull
  • Allergic reaction to medicine
  • Bad back
  • Locked joint in foot
  • Hit by a car and knocked off my bike
  • General despondent attitude

Looking back over this, that seems like a lot in the space of 2 months. I’m just going to wait here while you all send me vast amounts of sympathy.

Waiting 3

No? Ok then.

As someone who had only taken 1 sick day in 2 1/2 years (yes, that is a humble brag. I was properly proud of that) having this start to 2016 has seriously knocked me, not just physically but mentally as well (and this was before I made friends with concrete, which only happened yesterday after I’d started writing this post).

I don’t know about you, but I use running to cope with my stress. If I’m having a bad day, a 30 minute run in my lunch break can work absolute wonders. So that fact that I haven’t been able to properly get my teeth into my training at all yet in 2016 means that my stress has been building. But I can’t run to get rid of it. I hate not being able to run. So then the stress builds some more. But I can’t run……… So round and round we go like a dog chasing its tail, except that it’s way less entertaining for those around me.

Stress 1

So what’s a girl(runninglate) to do? I can either wallow in my bad luck, or I can just accept that quite simply, this is life. Who said it would always be plain sailing? Admittedly I’ve had an abnormal run of fails, but as one awesome runner liked to say, “when it rains, look for rainbows. When it’s dark, look for the stars.” I know in other circumstances this could sound like cheesy inspo you’d expect to find on Instagram, but it couldn’t be more fitting right now.

When I dropped out of the half, my brilliant friend Alice sent me a link to an article about Jessica Ennis when she had to drop out of the Beijing Olympics with a fracture in her right ankle. I imagine that making a decision like that is approximately 1000 times worse than having to drop out of a local half marathon. But look at what she has since gone on to achieve. Injury is part and parcel of being an athlete. It’s how you deal with the setbacks that shows how strong you really are.

And yes. I now consider myself an athlete. I never used to call myself that before despite the fact that Alan always has done. I just thought of myself as a runner. It was only at one of my many recent trips to Spritely Osteopathy that I called myself an athlete and Melissa picked up on it. The conversation went something like this:

“You called yourself an athlete.”

“Huh. So I did.”

“Good. You are.”

This short exchange showed a shift in the way I see myself, and it gave me a little boost during what has been a difficult time. It’s not much, but the little things count.

So I’m going to focus on how lucky I am to walk away from being hit by a car (my brother called me a double-hard bastard which is one of the best compliments I’ve ever received) and focus on the future. Anytime I can’t run I’ll work on my pull ups. If my legs need some rest I’ll go for a swim. If I need some downtime, I’ll do some yoga. Plus I’m going to dust off my Headspace app and set aside 10 minutes a day to get some more Yin in my life (because all this Yang cannot be good for me – thanks to Sigrist Acupuncture for the brilliant talk on Chinese medicine earlier this week)! There will always be options.

Enough of all this. I’m going to go and look at the stars. Bugger off clouds.

Thumbs Up

 

 

Improving My Mental Running Fitness

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It’s no secret that my physical fitness has been improving. Since I started training with Alan back in April my 5k PB has dropped from around 22:40 to 20:19. But I’ve still continued to struggle with the mental side of pushing myself to a reasonably high level of running. Sometimes I think my legs go into shock, like they’ve gone from my sedate 15 year old self, and have jumped forward 18 years to find themselves suddenly halfway through a 10k. I swear I can sometimes hear them screaming “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

So as you can imagine it was with some trepidation last Wednesday that I found myself heading back to Wandlebury with Alan and Stacy for the dreaded bench to bench session, aka the scene of my epic meltdown from a couple of months back. The weather was grey and the wind (the FLIPPING wind) had decided to hit its gusty peak at, ooh around 1pm, bang on time for our session. As we walked to the misery zone I did question the sanity of going to a large wood during some of the worst weather of the year that had FELLED TREES.

Beautiful Wandlebury photos courtesy of my talented friend theemiddlesis. I tried to take photos while I was there but the grey skies made it look miserable.

I needn’t have worried about the weather. The trees buffered us from the worst of it and what little did filter through was thankfully behind us. But I was nervous about my ability to complete the session, especially alongside a seasoned Wandlebury pro like Stacy. I nervously pointed out to her where I had sat in the mud and cried last time, and then just tried to focus on the logistics of what I had to do. Just 9 reps of around 200m up a rough, erratic incline. In total around 7 minutes of running. Easy peasy.

Of course it wasn’t easy. But I did it. Even better I managed to stay about the same distance behind Stacy – who is a ninja when it comes to consistent pacing – on every rep. I even went up on my toes on the slightly steeper sections, something that Alan is trying to encourage me to do thanks to some advice from up on high (!). I felt elated afterwards, and not even the utter DRENCHING I got on the cycle ride back to work could dampen (geddit?!) my spirits.

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This all set me in good stead ready for the Festive 5k in Ely this Sunday. By some fluke I was the winning woman last year, but I think the miserable weather put some strong runners off. This year I knew I could run it faster, but I had doubts that I would be able to hold on to the title. And it turns out the doubts were well founded. As soon as I saw Ruth Jones on the start line I knew she would storm it. She just had that look about her, and when she shot off at the start part of me felt a bit relieved. As lovely as it would have been to win again, it took some of the pressure off and allowed me to just enjoy the run.

My aim was to try and stay with my speedy friend Pete for as long as possible. He has a 5k PB of 19:40, so keeping him in my sights would mean a good time. He and I ended up in a cluster of 4 with two other female runners with Pete leading and me bringing up the rear. While I managed to catch up and lead all 4 of us down Lisle Lane to the 3k mark I knew I couldn’t sustain it and decided to let them get past me again and settle for keeping them all in my sights.

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They give you Santa hats, much needed in the cold weather!

The hill through Cherry Hill Park was a killer (Pete and I still can’t decide whether a hill is better at the beginning or the end of a race) and it took everything I had to make it to that finish, 4 seconds behind the 3rd place female and 9 seconds behind the 2nd. I came 10th overall out of 372 runners with a time of 20:37. I gave it absolutely everything I had, and finishing 15 seconds behind Pete is quite frankly insane for me. If he was 42 seconds off his PB, that means in the right conditions I could potentially just dip below the 20 minute mark. Flipping heck. Pete, can you pace me for every race please? Huge thanks to the Arthur Rank Hospice for arranging a fun and challenging race, which I know isn’t easy in a busy little city like Ely. Thanks also to all the drivers who stopped for us!

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Happy, chilly finishers

I was still a bit disappointed with my female placing on the day, but as Alan and my “always-been-wise-beyond-her-years” friend Lydia said, if I’ve given it everything, I can’t be disappointed. That was literally the best I could do, and I can’t ask for anything more than that.

Plus there’s always next year. Who knows how physically and mentally fit I could be by then?

Running for Dummies – or should that be “with”?

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I had a shocker of a session last week. I should have seen it coming really. I’d had a dreadful road-rage filled commute to work, I was running sans-coach and I seriously procrastinated before leaving the office to tackle the 6 x 800m session on the West Cambridge site. You know when newsreaders shuffle papers at the end of a broadcast while they wait for the cameras to turn off? It was like that. My desk had never looked neater.

But I trudged out there – see the choice of word there people – and surprise surprise it was awful. I had to stop on round three. I was forced to stop on round four when TWO FLIES went in my eye at once. I had to stop on round five and proceeded to kick a fence post. I then thought “no chuffing WAY am I ending the session like this”, so I forced the last 800m and didn’t stop. I didn’t feel good about it though. I felt like I had wasted an entire hour.

flop

The next day I complained about it to one of my colleagues who told me everyone has bad sessions. I do know this, and I know I can’t expect to always feel great, or to always get PBs when I do a Parkrun. But this felt like I was back to square one. I felt weak, a sensation I really, really hate, and one I generally don’t expect from myself unless I’m ill. He then said something else:

“I think you’re a bit hard on yourself.”

Like a sensible person I huffed a bit and stomped off to do my weights session, obviously handling all of this like a grown up PRO whilst continuing to mentally chew the whole thing over. The thing is, I have a habit of being hard on myself. I’ve always felt like I haven’t quite achieved what I could or should have done. And I get frustrated so easily. It’s a lethal combination.

So you can imagine my trepidation when this Tuesday and my next session with Alan rolled around. I had managed to tweak my back slightly on Monday so tackling Wandlebury with its hills and tree roots was out of the question (a reprieve!) so we settled on 200m instead. I thought we’d maybe do it 8 or at a push 12 times, but Alan announced it would be four sets of four off 30 seconds, with 4 minutes rest between each set.

That meant 16 reps of 200m. Oh dear.

ScreamSo I did my usual thing of going off too fast and by the end of the first four I was doubled over, my legs feeling like lead and wanging on about how much I was hating it. Basically I was having a hissy fit.

But Alan has seen all this before, and he watched me have my tantrum with a slight smile on his face before asking me what the problem was. I told him it felt like I was running through treacle.

“I wish I was this fast through treacle. Now shall we forget all this bollocks and carry on?”

And that, in a nutshell of a sentence, is why Alan is the perfect coach for me. If I’d been on my own I would have bailed halfway, but in just a few words he managed to compliment me, make me laugh and snap me out of my bratty mindset. And so I did carry on. I brought my arms up high, kept straight and stopped doubling over (thereby squashing my lungs) at the end of each sprint and instead walked around, taking deep, restorative breaths and sips of water. By the time I finished I felt like I had pushed myself as hard as I possibly could have done, and most importantly, I felt strong again. Plus I reminded myself – I’m not a sprinter, not by any stretch of the imagination, so what I had just achieved was pretty flipping awesome.

And why did it feel like I was running through treacle? Because I was, on average, 4 seconds faster per rep compared to the last time we did this session.

Better Run CelebrationIf I’m pushing myself that bit harder, of course – OF COURSE – it’s going to hurt more. And as I know I’ve said before, if these sessions were easy there would literally be no point to them.

After the session we had a little chat about how even though my running is coming along in leaps and bounds, my ability to control my head still has a seriously long way to go. I’m not sure how I’m going to tackle that just yet (answers in the comments section please!) but in the meantime, at least I’m not dreading next week’s session (even though he parted with his favourite sentence of “you’re not going to like it”).

The only problem now is, if I can’t have a successful session without Alan talking me off the ledge, has he become my new dummy, something I can’t successfully train without?

A wander to Wandlebury

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If you don’t know Wandlebury Country Park, it’s described on the Cambridge Past, Present & Future Cambridge PPF as a “tranquil open space [that] offers more than eight miles of wonderful walks through mature woods, meadows and chalk grassland areas.” Doesn’t that sound delightful? No doubt it’s conjuring up images like this in your mind:

Running Leo Sound of Music

No. No, no, no, no, no. NO. Stop that RIGHT NOW.

For those wishing to play frisbee, take their dog for a walk or have a picnic, Wandlebury is probably a little slice of twee, Cambridgeshire loveliness.

For a runner – especially a runner from the fens – IT IS PURE EVIL.

It was a lovely day, not much wind and some much needed sunshine. It was everything you’d want from an outdoor run really. And when Alan explained what I’d be doing I was filled with a bit of trepidation but up to the challenge. He was pretty vague and talked about 45 seconds-ish uphill followed by about 40 downhill with a minute rest between each one and we’d do that three times, followed by six 20 second hill sprints with a walk back down recovery between each one.

Fair enough. So I gave it a bash.

Holy effing arseballs. It was THE HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE.

I know I’ve probably said this before, but I seriously, seriously mean it. That 20 second hill sprint was like running up a treacle covered slide, hanging off a cliff face, whilst someone punched you in lungs. It was this but with far more swearing and sweating:

HIll Sprints

Getting through it I was so proud of myself, and when Alan talked about what to do next time, I thought “yep, you know what? I’ve learnt from this. When we come back here in around 4 weeks or so, I’ll pace myself a bit better and shorten my stride on that hill sprint and use my arms more. No probs.”

Oh poor misguided grasshopper.

When he said next time, he meant repeating it immediately.

Crying Baby

I had completely and utterly misunderstood the session plan, and had obviously put a lot into what I thought was the last hill sprint. I felt a mild flutter of panic, but I uttered the words I always utter to Alan.

I’ll try.

And you know what? That’s all he ever wants from me. For me to try my best and give it go. The worst that will happen is that I’ll vomit in those lovely quiet woods and upset a few rabbits.

Turns out, I paced myself better the second time around. It hurt and was physically and mentally tough, but when I finished that last hill sprint, I felt unstoppable. And then I felt a bit wobbly and vaguely nauseous but you know what? That was ok.

As we walked back to the car, Alan started to tell me about future sessions at Wandlebury, but I quickly cut him off. Truth be told, I’d rather not know what to expect as I don’t want to psyche myself out and start worrying that I can’t do it. It’s a bit like the Tough Mudder Race which I stupidly agreed to do with my friends James and Amy today. James wrote a blog about his recent experience there, and it’s a great read but I almost wish I hadn’t seen it. as the thought of the Cry Baby is freaking me out slightly….

As I cycled back to work from the centre of town, my lovely colleague Lucy had actually texted me as I had been gone for two and a half hours and she was worried Alan might have actually completely broken me this time. No chance. It’ll take more than a few hills, even if my legs don’t feel like they belong to me today. Tomorrow’s Parkrun could be interesting….

Wandlebury Country Park 2Do not be fooled by the beauty.

My super sporting Saturday

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You know when you find yourself looking forward to the weekend but then remember that you’ve committed to about a gajillion things and you’re actually going to be working harder in 24 hours than you have done at actual work all week?

That.

Now don’t get me wrong – I wasn’t coerced into any of this stuff and it was all so much fun. There was just a LOT of it.

So to kick start Saturday morning I decided it was time to tackle the Parkrun again, three weeks after my 22:40 attempt. As ever, I went with my running buddy Pete, and when he arrived to pick me up it has to be said he looked about as sprightly as I felt (having celebrated my best friend’s birthday the night before), so I can’t say that I had particularly high hopes for either of us.

Yawn

Yawn

But as we turned into Milton Country Park and Pete’s American Anthems CD started playing Eye of the Tiger (yes, really!) we both perked up a bit, gave our thanks for the good conditions, and set off, with me deciding to be a bit ballsy and start near the front as per the coach’s advice.

It’s hard to explain how I felt during this particular 5km. It was pretty up and down, with my getting frustrated when stuck behind two older guys, elated when I overtook a woman at the 4km mark who had overtaken me at the 2km mark, and experiencing sheer dismay when a girl no higher than my hip overtook me about 800m from the end (seriously – she was a little powerhouse)! About halfway round I had turned my sportswatch off as it seemed to be all over the place and was really putting me off my game. To quote Alan I felt like I was running with the watch rather than my heart, but this did mean that when I crossed the finish line I had no idea how I had done. I felt a weird mixture of exhausted and strong, which I hoped meant I had pushed myself as hard as possible. The only thing I knew for sure was that I had managed to come in 83rd, an improvement on 112th from the last time (and meant I had achieved my goal to finish in the top 100), but it was a meaningless statistic without knowing the calibre of the runners around me. So I grabbed a kale, spinach and mango smoothie from the brilliant Milton Country Park cafe and Pete and I headed home.

Now I am massively impatient, so thank goodness the awesome Cambridge Parkrun had the results up by midday:

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Words cannot describe how happy I was with this time. It was 35 seconds quicker than last time, and placed me as 9th woman! Chatting to some fellow runners at the end, the overriding opinion is that you can probably knock off something like 30 seconds from a grass race to get an idea of how fast you could cover the same distance on tarmac. All I know is that I am seriously closing in on that sub-22 minute time, and I was completely thrilled. A huge thank you to all of the brilliant Parkrun volunteers again. I’m going to enjoy basking in my new PB before Alan sets me my next challenge.

Dancing Friends

Parkrun PB! Whoop!

So after a quick lunch with my best friend at the legendary Peacocks Tearoom, I shot back into Cambridge, this time for the Cambridge vs. Oxford Athletics Varsity Match at Wilberforce Road. Now I love watching athletics (I enjoyed a bit of the Yokohama leg of the World Triathlon Series on TV this afternoon – what a finish in the men’s race!) and I know that Cambridge had an amazing team this year, particularly with its female athletes. It was a gorgeous day for it, and as I bench pressed my niece and watched her roll down the hill perilously close to the track (my sister naturally came to watch the action too), I got to see the men’s 400m, a bit of pole vault and the men’s and women’s 1500m. The atmosphere at an event like this, when so many people come together to unite in their passion for athletics, is just incredible. Brilliantly, Cambridge won the Varsity 4-0, and no doubt the athletes celebrated into the night. What Boat Race?!

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At 3:30pm I headed over to Churchill College for my 2 hour writing class, and after that I got picked up by my friends Tamsin, Elaine and Naomi, and we shot over to Shelford Rugby Club to join our friends Lucy, Emma and Sue for the Arthur Rank Hospice 10 mile Star Shine Stroll.

For those of you that don’t know, the Arthur Rank Hospice is an amazing local Cambridgeshire charity that provides life enhancing care to patients, as well as their family, friends and carers who are faced with the challenges presented by a life limiting illness. They arrange a lot of sporting events in Cambridge during the year, including the Bridge the Gap walk and the Ely Festive 5k (the only 5k I’ve ever won)! So with 394 other walkers, we left at 7pm to walk into Cambridge and back again.

Lucy, Elaine and I managed to be the first walkers back (although that last mile was hard work as our stride became shorter and our muscles got tighter!) in 2:20, and Naomi, Tamsin, Emma and Sue came in just a few minutes later. As we all sat down with a hard-earned hot drink, I found myself looking at the rotation of photos on the big screen in the Rugby Club, showing people who had been cared for by the Arthur Rank Hospice. It was a reminder of why we had all spent our Saturday evening trekking through Cambridge rather than singing karaoke at Tamsin’s House – it was because of the brilliant work the Hospice does to make a really difficult time in people’s lives a little bit easier.

StarShineStroll

See? I’m not the only one who loves crazy sportsgear

I also have to say a huge thank you to everyone who sponsored us. You can still do so here, and even a £1 would make a big difference to this small but hugely important charity.

So after clocking up 31000 steps in total on Saturday and spending today falling asleep at random intervals, it goes without saying that I’m looking forward to a quiet one next weekend. Except for maybe another Parkrun………..

Flow and Glow at Sweaty Betty Cambridge

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“All that really matters is the moment you’re in right now.”

When I heard yoga instructor Rachael Moore say that at the start of the Flow and Glow class I attended at the Cambridge Sweaty Betty store on Trinity Street this morning, I knew I was going to like her style of teaching.

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I didn’t quite look like this

For those of you who don’t know about the mighty Sweaty Betty, it’s a women’s activewear brand that was founded in 1998 by Tamara and Simon Hill-Norton, with the aim to “inspire women to find empowerment through fitness”. Now that’s a brand message that I can get on board with – take note Protein World. I’m a workout clothes junkie, but I go back to Sweaty Betty time and time again, stocking up on their longline athlete vests and swooning over their fabulous fabrics and flattering cuts. I would hazard a guess that 50% of my workout wardrobe carries the distinctive SB logo.

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Such a lovely location for a class

Now I know that SB is a higher-end activewear brand and that not everyone can afford to spend what I can on fitness gear (although their sales are always excellent), but the thing I love about Sweaty Betty more than anything else is the community they’ve created. They have developed a legion of dedicated followers not only because they sell lovely, fashionable fitness gear (something that was a rarity back in 1998) but also because they understand their customers and provide them with so much more than slightly pricier-than-average leggings. One brilliant example of this is their “Get Fit 4 Free” campaign.

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Those butterfly leggings. Those.

Every week SB holds over 70 classes in their boutiques around the world. In Cambridge alone they have weekly yoga and Pilates classes and a running club. In addition to this they have special events with guest instructors or their Sweaty Betty ambassadors, such as this morning’s Flow Glow yoga class. Earlier this year they launched Fly, Flex, Flow, an hour long class with their ambassador Jo Hopkins, an insane mix of 20 minutes of intense cardio (sprints, star jumps and skipping – fly) on the market square, 20 minutes of weights work back in the store (flex) followed by 20 minutes of yoga (flow). I thought it was complete and utter crazy genius and I loved it. And the best thing of all? These classes are all completely free. Did you get that? FREE. To me, any company that does that is pure awesomeness bottled.

So when I heard that they were doing a Bank Holiday Monday one-off Flow and Glow yoga class I signed up immediately (this can be done on their website if you have a SB account). The promise of a free raspberry, orange, purple kale and vanilla smoothie from the newly established Espresso Library also helped! As soon as Rachael started the “twisting-based” class I knew I would be challenged to push myself, and this was proven by a selection of chest-opening twists and one-legged balances. The good thing is, Rachael took the time to give helpful adjustments and also to give a range of options to suit different flexibility levels. As for one of the last poses where she somehow managed to make us untwist our legs and twist them the other way round in one quick turn – that was pure sorcery! It was a fantastic class, and I wish I could start every Monday like that.

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So flipping tasty.

So if you fancy trying one of SB’s classes, take a look at the availability here. In my experience the women who attend these classes are always so vibrant and friendly, and I have nothing but good things to say about the staff at SB – they always take their time to ask me how my running is going and to just chat about fitness and fashion in general. Plus if you’ve run a marathon this year, turn up with your medal and you’ll get an extra 20% off!

The only bad thing about all of this as far as my endlessly patient other half is concerned? My SB wishlist is now off the scale.

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The fabulous Rachael.