My London Marathon Experience

October 4, 2022October 4, 20221 Comment

“You did it, even when it was against everything that makes you feel safe.”

Such wise words from my friend and all-round awesome person Jo, as I struggled post-marathon with feelings of bitter disappointment, embarrassment and regret.

I’ve said for a long time that I’m a 5k girl through and through and that I don’t think marathons are going to be my bag. With that and my bucket list in mind, I wanted to make sure that if I only ever did one, it would be something huge like London and I’d want to enjoy it. Because what’s life without stepping outside your comfort zone?

But there’s stepping outside your comfort zone and there’s running 26.2 miles away from it. It’s probably obvious from the start of this post that my marathon didn’t go to plan. I always knew I was going to have an uphill battle to the start line, going from nothing to marathon in 10 weeks thanks to injury, and having to manage that with some serious anxiety in crowds, exacerbated by 2.5 years of not even having caught a train, let alone been in a group with 40,000 other people plus thousands of spectators. But I had one of my best friends with me to support me to the bitter end, and we were dressed in costume and had raised a load of money for Blood Cancer UK. I thought that I had done everything I could to feel safe in a situation that I was frankly terrified of.

But despite all of this, I still couldn’t have predicted how spectacularly things were going to go wrong on the day.

In the lead up to Sunday, my most pressing concern was my gastro issues. I get so nervous before big running events and that stress and adrenaline always hits me right in the gut and has caused me a lot of problems in training. But apart from that and the 6 weeks missed through injury, I had done all of my long runs without any major issues and had even done just shy of a solid half marathon a few weeks back. My sleep before the marathon wasn’t ideal, with two nights in two different beds, and being woken up consistently the night before the marathon by those in the apartment above us and trucks outside my window. I was awake at 5:30am after less than 6 hours of sleep (but I don’t think anyone sleeps well the night before a marathon). But thankfully on Sunday morning my stomach surprisingly wasn’t that bad, and we made it from our apartment to the start line without any issues at all and I felt really good about it. And the crowds at the start (in our pens etc.) weren’t as bad I thought they’d be. I did get crazy tense in the 30 minutes before we started as my bladder decided that my two pre-race pees were actually just the support act and I was suddenly bursting with no place to go, so it was a speedier than ideal first mile to reach the first portaloos on the course. But after that, we found our pace in the crowds and settled in around the 8:40 per mile mark.

At around mile 5, I suddenly became very aware of the heat, and the cool breeze gave me a weird sensation of being both hot and cold at the same time, almost feverish, and a brief sinking feeling about the whole event came over me before I forced it away. So on we ran, passing the Cutty Sark (me: “where?” Pete: “literally there”) and going over Tower Bridge, hydrating and taking on gels just like we had in training. We saw the super speedy runners who were coming past us in the other direction and kept an eye out for any of our club mates (sadly to no avail), and it was at around mile 15 that I started to get what felt like a stitch, and a tingling feeling under my big toe that felt suspiciously like a blister despite wearing socks that have accompanied me on my long runs with no issues whatsoever. The sun was beating down on us, and that first moment of doubt slipped in.

It never left me.

The first tears came at mile 16 as the pain in my side increased to the point where I couldn’t breathe properly, and nothing was loosening it. I tried different breathing techniques, stretching (usually guaranteed to shift any stitches I get) and changing my cadence, but it had me in a vice-like grip and the more frustrated I got the more tense I was getting and the more I cried the more I couldn’t breathe properly. It was like my mind and body just stopped communicating and rather than simply accepting the fact that I had pulled something (obvious now due to the pain still being there as I type this) and allowing my body to tell me what it could do in that moment, I fought against it, devastated that all I wanted to do was run the last 7 miles, no matter how slowly, when in fact all I could manage was a few hundred metres at a time between regular walking breaks, the only thing that would stop the excruciating pain under my right ribs.

And during all this, I was acutely aware of the fact that it wasn’t just me going through this, but I was derailing Pete’s run as well. He deserved better from me. He did everything he could to calm me down but I had lost the mental battle, and I kept thinking about all those people who had said to me “you’re stronger than you think you are” when I had never felt so weak and pathetic. But another thing Jo has pointed out to me post run (damn her for being so wise) is that my ego was playing a part. I’m used to performing well at running for the most part, but I started thinking about all those people tracking me on the app and witnessing my complete and utter disintegration in real time, discussing what might have gone wrong in my race, not to mention the London crowds seeing me sob as I ran walked through the streets. I felt humiliated.

And speaking of the spectators, I can totally see how people love London for the support they get as they’re running. But for me, I don’t think I have ever felt so overwhelmed in my whole life. The noise was relentless, with whistles, cow bells, air horns, clappers and more, sometimes right in your ear, and there were times when I thought I was going to go mad from it (overly dramatic I know, but I wasn’t in a good place at that point). It turns out I was right to be worried about my anxiety in crowds, but rather than it being from the other runners, it was from the spectators. On the train home Pete and I got chatting to someone who had been volunteering for a charity and she said that some of her runners had also struggled with it and that we shouldn’t underestimate the impact that Covid will have had on our ability to tolerate so many people and so much noise. With hindsight, I wish I had prepared myself better for that, as running with your fingers in your ears and your eyes screwed shut isn’t conducive to a cracking marathon.

Eventually we did finish, but I had failed on my two goals – I hadn’t wanted to stop to walk except for fuelling purposes, and I hadn’t wanted what was likely to be my only marathon to be a negative experience. And the negatives were all I can currently focus on.

I’ve found writing this to be really quite upsetting, but it felt easier to type it out rather than have to keep retelling it in person. I so wanted to be on a runner’s high right now, but instead I feel like all of my weeks of hard work, both running and recovering from my injury, were for nothing and I feel desperately flat. But deep down I know that I put too much pressure on myself to perform well in my first marathon, despite it being an event that goes against everything that makes me feel safe. I know deep down that I’m not a distance girl and that there was a time when it looked like I wasn’t even going to make the start line, let alone finish it. And I know I’m overwhelmed in crowds and generally avoid them like the plague, so in hindsight choosing a big city event for my first and likely only marathon crossed the line from brave to foolish. I’m just not suited to so many people and so much noise, and I don’t think I’d do any big city event again, regardless of distance. And I know that Pete was happy to just be there and earn an amazing medal and that my friends and family are proud no matter what but I feel like I let everyone down. But more than anything else I’m my own worst critic, and I’m so disappointed with the way I fell apart on the streets of London, and I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to get over that.

But I’m going to try and end this post on some positives, because of course there were some.

Getting to experience such a bonkers thing with one of my best mates and realising that he’s a bigger legend than I ever thought possible
Raising a load of money for Blood Cancer UK in memory of two incredible people
Seeing Eliud Kipchoge and Paula Radcliffe at the Expo
Watching kids wanting to high five Pete before spotting his Wolverine claws and freaking out
Hearing all the cheers for Wolverine and laughing about how no one had a scoobie who I was meant to be
The love and support from friends and family, ESPECIALLY Rach’s flapjack
Seeing Pip’s beautiful happy face at the finish and her look of horror and regret when she hugged a very sweaty and emotional me
The free burger from Bill’s afterwards
The fact that I can do stairs again just 48 hours later
The fact that I can always say that I finished the London Marathon
The spectacular medal
The fact that I never have to do it again

I’m also highly aware of how lucky I am that I’m back home and safe with only bruised and battered emotions, sore ribs and a badly blistered toe after a marathon runner died after collapsing at mile 23 in the London Marathon. My thoughts are with his friends and family.

Oh my giddy aunt I’m running the London Marathon

September 5, 20222 Comments

Well hello there! Remember me? Slightly overdramatic running type with a flair for longer than average blog posts?

What a five months it’s been. Lemme do a quick(ish) recap for you as to how I’ve got to actually looking like I might be running the London Marathon in less than 4 weeks (gulp) and why I’ve once again been MIA from this blog.

Enters London Marathon ballot in October 2020.
Actually gets a place to run in 2021. Panics slightly.
Defers to 2022 thanks to plantar fasciitis. Feels a little relieved.
2022 comes at me full pelt. Suddenly sh*t gets real and I feel like I might actually be running London this year.
One of my best friends, Pete, gets a charity place to run so that he can be with me on the day as he knows how much marathons scare me. I both love and hate him for this. I have even more reason to do it now.
On very first interval training session for the marathon, something goes very wrong in my calf. I literally can’t run on it.
I cry. A lot. I can’t even think about running let alone write about it.
After 6 weeks of intense physiotherapy, osteopathy, acupuncture and an unhealthy attachment to my massage gun (don’t come at me if you don’t believe in this stuff. I do.) I’m able to run again, but I have a LOT of ground to cover. Literally. I need to get from 0 to marathon in just 10 weeks.
6 weeks into training I finally accept I’m running London. Feel sick with nerves and excitement practically every hour.

How my face will probably look on marathon day

So there we have it. I’m actually running the London Marathon in less than four weeks and I currently feel like I’m in a cheese dream. I’m scared of marathons. Like properly sweaty palms as I’m typing, stomach-churningly scared. I’m a decent, experienced runner, but there is something about the longer stuff that I have always struggled with mentally. I just don’t believe that my 5k ability is going to translate to marathons and my brain likes to interrupt me at random, regular intervals across the day to scream “ARE YOU MAD? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TRYING TO RUN A MARATHON?” before doing a fun little visual montage of chubby younger me coming 2nd to last in the 1500m at school and more recent me sitting down in a grassy field dotted with rabbit poop and bawling my eyes out after a particularly difficult 5k.

(And don’t even get me started on the IBS.)

I feel a bit silly feeling like this. I’m in a running club full of people who run marathons. Some have done loads, some only one. Some get GFA times, some take their time on trail marathons. Some have only been running for a year or two before taking on this monumental challenge. And I am in AWE of every single one of them. Marathon training is really not for wussies, and to all of you who ever done one, I take my hat off to you. It is a HELL of a challenge.

I think ultimately, I’m scared of messing it up in some way. I’m still worried that my leg will give up on me in the next 4 weeks. I’m worried that I’ll get the fuelling wrong on the day. I’m worried I’ll hate the experience and that my only ever marathon will be a negative memory.

I’m worried about letting Pete down.

I’m worried about letting myself down.

But a teeny, tiny part of me is starting to believe that I can do this.

I’m writing this the day after doing my second 20 mile run of my training programme (huge thanks to Charlotte for writing it for me – I just wish I could have followed it to the letter and done it justice) and I’m now entering into tapering whilst trying not to eat everything I can get my greedy mitts on. I have literally done my longest EVER run (20.05 miles to be precise) and I’m about to experience something that many people would love to get the chance to do, and I get to do it one of my best friends, someone who knows exactly what to say and how to distract me when the going gets tough (Quigley Down Under for the win Pete)! Plus I have had the most amazing support from my running buddies, especially those who have joined me on long runs when Pete has had to travel for work. Thanks Justin and Rob – I genuinely could not have done those without you.

This makes me extremely fortunate. And the best part of all? Pete and I are going to have a bloody good laugh, because we’ve decided we’re doing it in costume to raise money for Blood Cancer UK and to celebrate the lives of two people who meant the world to us and who we miss terribly – Pete’s mum Diane and my father-in-law Tommy. Crikey it’s going to be an emotional day in so many ways. Not least because of my decidedly dodgy interpretation of Rogue from X-Men in costume form. And yes, I will be dying my ACTUAL hair.

So whilst normally I would have blogged my way through training, this is a whistle-stop tour of my London Marathon journey so far. It has been far from conventional, but I guess the destination is the thing that really matters. Past me would not have believed I would end up doing this. Not for even a second. But what’s life without challenges that take us out of our comfort zone?

If you’ve ever enjoyed reading this blog, and have even £1 spare, please do think about giving us a donation. I know these are difficult times for us all but they’re even more difficult for those currently undergoing treatment for cancer. If you don’t have a £1 spare, do please just send me your encouraging words. They will mean the world to me.

And did I mention that I will be dying my ACTUAL hair? You can see a photorealistic image of how Peter and I will look on the day below. You’re welcome.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/pete-and-lauren-2022

Can running mean too much?

May 28, 2021May 28, 20211 Comment

Yep, I’ve been quiet on here. And sadly it’s not due to getting out and enjoying my marathon training plan and the easing of restrictions here in the UK.

Just two weeks after my blog post about getting a place in the London Marathon, my stupid plantar fasciitis (thanks shitty tendons) made a screaming comeback like an attention-seeking toddler having a hissy fit. Honestly, the timing was almost laughable. Twelve weeks later and I’m – finally – tentatively sticking a less than happy toe back into the water whilst I wait for my long-awaited for osteopath appointment to roll around. I know that its recurrence is due to a number of factors. Pre-lockdown I used to have monthly physio MOTs and it’s been 14 months since my last appointment, I’ve been working from a sofa all year due to the size of my house and having two adults working from home, and I’ve been doing online workout classes on a non-sprung floor. That’s all going to add up.

To be honest, London isn’t massively on my mind at the moment. I need to start my training plan in earnest in June if I’m going to make the October start line, and since I only just started running again two weeks ago and am at 2.5 miles, realistically that’s looking super unlikely. And I know some people think that London shouldn’t be about the time and you should just enjoy it, but I don’t even have any longer run foundations to build on right now. I’ll be starting nearly from scratch, and even getting around and enjoying it, regardless of time, feels like too big an ask. So I’m just waiting for them to announce their deferral process so I can get that sorted and not need to think about it.

But in these last few weeks, I’ve realised just how much of me is tied up in running. So much of who I am is wrapped up in this pastime of mine that I feel like I’ve really lost my way – and part of who I am – in the last few months. I’ve had to block notifications from my running club on Facebook as I couldn’t bear to see people sharing their virtual race results and sharing photos of themselves back at training. I’ve had to temporarily mute messenger conversations from close friends when the talk turned to running as the jealousy became too much. I’ve had to block notifications on Strava when I kept being told that any segment or “local legend” titles that I held had been snapped up by someone else. Everything just felt so negative and there’s also another argument here for stepping back from social media, but that’s another conversation for another time.

I have thrown myself into cycling, both on the turbo trainer and in the real world, and the racing side of Zwift has helped me to scratch my competitive itch, but nothing makes me feel the way running does. Nothing fits me like running does. I bumped into Ely Runner Kath just yesterday, and she summed it up beautifully. She told me that to her, running is meditative. She has come to know her local routes so well that she has one for nearly every mood. It’s not quite like cycling where you have to have more of your wits around you 100% of the time, looking out for potholes and being hyper aware of cars. With running, you can pick a quiet trail and switch off, and in Ely we’re lucky enough to be able to be in the depths of the countryside within minutes, with nothing but bird song and maybe the distant rumble of a train for company. It’s soul food and I feel like I’m starving.

Although I’ve been injured before, it’s quite an overwhelming thing to be injured during a global pandemic, when your biggest coping mechanism for good mental health is suddenly taken away and access to the treatment you need to get back out running is harder to come by. We’re all coping with so much change and uncertainty already, and to lose the one thing you rely on as a constant is gut wrenching. I’ve cried at friends who haven’t even been able to hug me and tell me that of course I’ll be back. That I’ve been here before and it’s part and parcel of being an athlete. And deep down I know this. But I think over the last 14 months my capacity for any mental strain has diminished, and to be a running blogger who can’t run, to be known as Girl Running Late online but have nothing to say about it means that I feel like without running, I’m nothing.

But I have to say, that alongside my husband, it’s my running friends – both old and new – who have kept me going. There are those that drag me out for bike rides just so that we can try and find Justin some random tat on the side of the road and make up even more nicknames for each other (sorry Bethan), those who turn up with flowers and chocolates just because they know I’m having a bad week (thanks Rach and Ann), those that let me cry at them and help me to see the bigger picture (thanks Pete) and those who offer to come out for a walk when they would normally be out running (Charlotte, Janet, Shaun, Emma, Emily) just so that we can laugh and vent about anything and everything (sometimes with a bonus doggo and/or baby). It’s meant more to me than they probably realise (even if Justin did beat my Mill Hill segment on a bike ride, the git).

So what next? I see Melissa at Spritely Osteopathy in less than 2 weeks, and I know that her treatment is going to be the first step in getting back out there. I’ve been doing a lot more pilates to work on my glutes and core, the twin engines of a runner’s body, and I’ve signed up to Fiit, whose huge number of classes and points based workout system keeps me motivated. And as for the running, I’ll keep taking it very steady, restricting myself to a short run every three days and not deviating from that plan, and knowing that if my foot flares up again I’ll need to stop. For now, that’s enough for me. I’ve realised that even running a mile is restorative, and makes me feel like myself again. Yes, a lot of who I am is defined by my running, but it’s also given me the people who have kept me afloat both during this injury and during the whole of the last 14 months. So maybe it’s ok that it’s such a huge part of what makes me, me. Because without it, my support network would have been a hell of a lot smaller. Just don’t be offended if I don’t like your long Sunday run on Strava. I’m not quite there yet.

London Baby!

February 15, 20216 Comments

I don’t think it’s going to take a genius to realise what this post is about.

That’s right. Mrs “I’m probably never going to do a marathon” only went and got a ballot place for VLM 2021.

You know what it’s like. You watch the marathon, get sucked up in the emotion and enter the ballot with a tear in your eye after watching a man dressed like a camel tell his family he loves them at mile 21, knowing full well your chance of getting a place is something like 1/25. Even the weirdness of the 2020 marathon didn’t stop me as I watched all of those amazing runners take on the challenge virtually, without even the famous London crowds to cheer them on.

But then I forgot all about it, and when my email turned up last week I clicked the link with a wry smile fully expecting the usual “commiserations” message and preparing to go about my day. So when I saw the lovely red-headed lady’s face with the words “YOU’RE IN!” I did whatever anyone else would do. Started shaking and immediately went to the toilet. My body basically went straight into fight or flight mode, just like it always does on any event start line. Adrenaline is a bitch.

As I saw the disappointed posts start to come in on the Ely Runners Facebook page, without a single person saying they had been successful, something stopped me from getting involved in the chat. I think I needed to take the time to absorb the news and to accept the enormity of it for me as a runner. So many of my incredible clubmates have done multiple marathons, and although they all respect the distance, for a lot of them, it no longer holds any fear. But for me, I have a comfort zone, and it’s 5km.

But here I am, a week later, and I’m – dare I say it – a wee bit excited? I feel incredibly privileged to have something to train for in a time when few races and running events are taking place. And I have been utterly overwhelmed by the support I’ve received. I have a training plan coming my way courtesy of Charlotte. I have offers of running buddies on those long runs from Justin, Shaun, Pete and more. I have offers of dealing with the nutrition and mental side of things from Jo. And I have had nothing but messages of support from those I’ve told, all who have made me believe that yes – I can do this.

But I know I have a lot of work ahead of me, and it’s not just about getting the miles in. Anyone who knows me knows I’m going to want to do this to the best of my ability, and to do that I have things I need to work on. I need to work on my core and glute strength to manage my hyperlordosis which tends to make itself known around 10 miles into any longer run. I need to stay on top of my rehab and make sure I look after my calves which have a habit of tightening up thanks to my form which sees me running up on my toes (in a time when I can’t see my physio for my monthly MOT). I need to be more structured in my training instead of just running what I want when I want. But most importantly, I need to sort out my head. I need my brain to stop telling me that I’m not capable of such a long distance, that I’m simply not built for it. I need to believe in myself.

But the best bit of advice I’ve had so far has come from Charlotte, who immediately told me not to think about the time, and to instead treat London Marathon as the event it is. She told me to make sure I take everything in and be truly present, because London is an experience, and it might be a once in a lifetime one for me. If I enjoy the distance and decide I want to do other marathons, I can focus on the time then. London shouldn’t be about that. And in her words, “It’s about looking back and saying you did it and enjoyed it rather than ‘got through it’.” Amen sister.

So prepare yourself folks – I’m about to embark on a marathon journey, and I really hope you’ll come along for the ride.

The 2019 Running Awards

May 1, 2019May 1, 20191 Comment

So last week I was lucky enough to attend the 2019 Running Awards, as thanks to the votes from you lovely lot I was shortlisted for best personal blog! I had such a great running -centered day meeting some of the awesome folk from the wider UK running community.

I arrived in London a little before midday, getting to my hotel near Tower Bridge in time to get changed for the Secret London Run that the Running Awards had put on in collaboration with the brilliant Runderwear. We had all been generously gifted with personalised kit from Runderwear, and I rocked up in my new gear to see a sea of recognisable faces including Emma from Lipstick & Trainers and Jordan from ProjectMarathonGirl.

Runderwear Run 1

Photo credit to Runderwear

We all split into groups, and then Matt from Secret London Runs took our group on a journey across the Thames to discover the murky history of South London. During our run we took in sites including the remains of the Roman London Wall, St Dunstan’s, Winchester Palace, Cross Bones and the Guinness Partnership among others. It was such an inspired way to see our capital, and forced all us runners to actually pause and look up once in a while!

After a fantastic 4-odd miles, we all rushed off to get ready for the awards, which would be taking place on board the wonderful Dixie Queen on the Thames. I was lucky enough to have my brilliant Aunt Kathleen as my date, and there was much excitement on board as we all waited for Tower Bridge to open so that we could get on our merry way for the next 5 hours. It was at this point that I met parkrun legend Paul Sinton-Hewitt, and nattered his ear off about the brilliant impact that Littleport parkrun has had on our local community.

The guest speakers during the Bloggers Forum were brilliant. Led by Claire from Wild Ginger Runs, we had talks from World Marathon Challenge record holder Susannah Gill (7 marathons in 7 continents in 7 days – yes really), Eric Keeler who ran 3700 miles across the USA despite not liking running (yes really) and Mark Atkinson, author of Run Like Duck and winner of the Gold Award for Best Book at the awards. You can read about his blog of the blog awards here (a blog mentioning a blog about the blogging awards – that meta enough for you Mark?!). We also had a great demo from Enertor showing us just how amazing their innersoles (favoured by Usain Bolt) are at absorbing impact (we were gifted a pair of these and I can’t wait to try them!), and we heard all about how founders Jamie and Richard built Runderwear.

After a quick buffet meal, we then went on to the awards themselves, and those of us who had been shortlisted were invited upstairs to watch the ceremony and Kathleen and I managed to blag a space on the table with Mark and his lovely wife Cloë. I wasn’t remotely surprised when my name wasn’t announced as the winner of the personal blog award (that honour went to Running Mr Jones) but it was great to watch Mark go up and collect his award and have a hold of his hefty trophy! I also saw some of those I had voted for winning their categories, including the awesome Running Shoes Guru and the brilliant Runderwear.

After disembarking from the Dixie Queen we all headed off across London and beyond, and I’m sure many of those who would be running the marathon just 36 hours later were enjoying the relatively peaceful streets ahead of the awesome madness that awaited them. I had such a brilliant time in London, and my place there wouldn’t have been possible without those of you who take the time to read my witterings. I am so incredibly grateful to all of you who took the time to vote for me. Same time next year?

The Instant Camaraderie of Runners

May 3, 2017Leave a comment

I know you’ve all watched it by now. Or if you’re like me, you’ve watched it about 40 times. The moment Swansea Harriers’ Matt Rees stopped 200m from the end of the London Marathon to help David Wyeth from Chorlton Runners reach the finish line. David’s legs had gone to jelly, his body having run out of carbohydrate stores and he was in danger of not making it. He was agonisingly close to the finish line, waving past runners who were slowing down to check on him and claiming that he was ok. But Matt knew fully well that he wasn’t, and chucking his own time out of the window he helped get David to the finish.

Matthew Rees Credit London Marathon

Credit: London Marathon

Twitter went bonkers, and rightfully so. The London Marathon has the ability to bring grown adults to tears as they sit on the sofa, drinking tea and eating mint Oreos (just me?) whilst marvelling at people putting themselves through the most mentally tough thing some of them will ever do. Let’s face it, the world is a bit of a “funny” place right about now, and sometimes we all need to have our faith in humankind rekindled, and watching the way people help and support each other in feats of physical endurance (let’s not forget Alistair Brownlee helping Jonny across the finish line in the Triathlon World Series in Mexico – and letting him cross the line first no less) is a sure fire way to melt even the iciest of hearts.

Brownlees

But it doesn’t just happen on the world stage. At the 1st Kevin Henry League race of the season last week, I found myself struggling with about 1.5k to go. I wasn’t going easy on myself, and I was pretty cold after getting caught in a hailstorm on the way to the race. I also had a few people overtake me (including some ridiculously chirpy folk, Andrew and Lauren, I’m talking about you!), which doesn’t happen that often and made me panic that I had gone off too fast. At the 4k mark I knew I was going to make it to the finish ok, but I knew it was going to be ugly – when my breathing starts sounding like a dog who has inhaled a broken harmonica I know I’m in trouble. But then I realised that I was running side by side with a Haverhill Runner, and by some miracle I was managing to match my pace to his. I swore like an absolute trouper (but I did apologise after every verbal bomb, honest) and somehow this lovely man kept me going, offering encouragement and saying things like “come on, only 400m to go”. And then to top it all off, he let me cross the line first. What a blooming legend.

So the next day I tweeted that I owed this man a drink and copied in the Haverhill Running Club, and then a few days later another runner I follow on Twitter sent me this (someone from the Club had clearly mentioned me on their Facebook page):

There I was thinking he had dragged me round, when really we had dragged each other round, and he got a PB to boot. We’re running for different clubs but we just desperately wanted to get each other across that finish line in one piece. I’ve since chatted to Neil on Facebook, and I’ve no doubt we’ll be running together again and who knows? Maybe we’ll both get a PB this season (but if we don’t, that’s ok too)! I love running for so many reasons, but the bond it can create between complete strangers is just awesome.

An Evening with Mara Yamauchi

February 4, 2016February 4, 20161 Comment

First of all, apologies that it’s taken me so long to write about the evening I spent with marathon runner and Olympian Mara Yamauchi at Anglia Ruskin University – I blame the death cold from hell that has taken over my life and left me mostly sofa bound for a good few days. Never a happy situation for an athlete who likes to be on the move.

So, on the 18th January I – along with a handful of Ely Runners – went to a free talk organised by the Greater Cambridge Athletics Network (GCAN). For those of you who don’t know her (and there are a depressingly large number of those who don’t, given her achievements), Mara Yamauchi is the second-fastest British woman to run a marathon (I don’t think I need to tell you who the fastest is) in a time of 2:23:12. She also came in 6th at the 2008 Beijing Olympics and 2nd in the 2009 London Marathon. That’s a snapshot of a pretty impressive running resume.

Mara Yamauchi BBC

Photo of Mara thanks to the BBC

As I settled into a jam-packed lecture hall, the first thing I noticed about Mara was how petite she is – powerhouses can come in deceptively small packages sometimes. The second thing was just how she clearly lived and breathed running. On her own website she says “My life’s passion is running. From a very early age, growing up in Nairobi, Kenya, I loved doing sports and being outdoors. At age 11, inspired by the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics, I decided that I was going to be an Olympian.” Her passion for her sport filled the room extremely quickly, and she quickly made her audience warm to her by threatening latecomers with 50 push ups!

For those of us who were hoping that there was some simple formula to becoming a world class runner, we were left unsurprisingly disappointed. It takes commitment, serious hard work, S&C, good nutrition, good recovery and the ability to really listen to your body. Mara admitted that she was extremely lucky that running could be her full time job, and sympathised with those of us having to fit our training around family lives and working hours. But she still managed to give us some tips that we could all take away with us, regardless of whether we planned to run 5k, 10k, 21k or 42k and beyond:

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Mara charms her audience

TRAINING

You need to steadily increase your training. If you increase the FIT – frequency, intensity and time (length) of your runs all at once you’re more likely to get injured.
Your runs should consist of three key sessions – a long run, a threshold run and long intervals (more than 4 minutes).
Hill training is great for strength bio-mechanics – increasing the amount of blood per beat of your heart. But she did admit that hill training is tricky around here – she favours San Moritz!
Strength training is an important part of any runner’s training schedule. It’s essential for injury prevention and ensuring you hold your form over long distances. The priority with this is glutes – think the clam and leg raises (some helpful images can be found here).
The pulling back motion of the arm is extremely important and will help make your running more efficient – work on it.
Always try and refuel within 20 minutes of training. A protein milkshake is ideal.
An elliptical is good for cross training.

RACES:

If you’re planning to run a marathon, you should aim for a 2o mile run 4 weeks before.
Races are excellent as part of a training schedule (i.e. a 10k if you’re training for a half.
Before a race, check the course and consider your logistics i.e. how you’re getting there. This gives you less to worry about on race day.
Nerves are a natural part of racing, and the adrenaline is useful so try and work with it.

These are just some of the tips I noted down in my slightly befuddled cold-y state, but hopefully you’ll find one or two of them useful. Mara also recommended a couple of books – Anatomy for Runners and Strength and Conditioning for Endurance Running – well worth a look if you’re a bookish type like me!

Also, if you get the chance, read up a bit more about Mara. She’s an inspirational lady who simply loves to run, but also isn’t afraid to speak her mind, especially on the recent scandals rocking athletics.

Sometimes it’s OK to Walk (or Run) Away

October 13, 2015October 13, 2015Leave a comment

Some of you may have realised that I have a tendency to overcommit myself. Whether it’s making cakes at 10pm, leading running groups for beginners, volunteering at parkrun, hosting cake clubs, learning Italian, attempting to add a couple of hundred words to my novel in the evening, blogging(!), making cards/cross stitches/bauble wreaths/arm knitted scarves (yes, really) for people and probably more that I can’t remember as my brain is in a permanent low state of frazzlement (yes that’s now a word). I often get asked how I do as much as I do and sometimes I don’t really know. I guess some weeks some of these things take a back seat to others and I try my best to prioritise whilst still – most importantly – finding time for my family and friends.

Standard Monday evening

I like to help people and I’m awful at saying no regardless of circumstances. And I really hate to let people down once I’ve committed to something. But mostly I think I have quite a bad case of FOMO. I like to sign up to things and say yes to things that interest me because what if they’re brilliant and I’m not there? So earlier this year I signed up to the Great Eastern Run which took place on Sunday. But I didn’t run it.

If you’ve ever done a big-ish run before you’ll know that you have to sign up for these things pretty far in advance. For example, the Cambridge Half is at the end of February but entries open next week. And we all know about the London Marathon timings thanks to a recent influx of status updates and tweets of joy or frustration from those trying to get a place. And having that amount of time can be a really good thing as it gives you the chance to formulate a cracking training plan. But on the flip side you always sign up to these things knowing you may get injured during training or come down ill a few days beforehand. Those are the breaks. But I wasn’t ill or injured. I simply wasn’t in the right mental state or indeed the best physical state to run 13 miles, and that wasn’t an easy thing to accept.

Marathon disappointments from some awesome Twitter types I follow

Now I know I can run 13 miles. I’ve done it a few times and although it’s not easy I’m physically fit enough to do it. But I want to do every race to the best of my ability, and so much of my training recently has been on interval and speedwork, leaving distance training to take a back seat. About 6 weeks ago I was starting to get nervous about the run, and I decided to talk to Alan to see what he thought I should do. But he raised the subject before I had the chance. He told me he didn’t think I should do it because I wasn’t quite in the right head space, which would make me more likely to have a bad run which would set me back mentally and also put me at risk of picking up an injury. Naturally my competitive instinct at that moment was to protest, to claim that of course I could do it. I thought I was letting myself down by backing out, not to mention my friend Elaine who had also signed up for it with the understanding that we’d be emotionally supporting each other to the finish line. But so much of the relationship between a runner and their coach is based on trust. If Alan gave me some advice and I then ignored it, then why should he bother? Plus can you imagine how insufferable he would be if I did get an injury? So we made a deal – give this one a miss with the aim to smash the Cambridge Half in February. And let’s face it – Alan has been right about an awful lot recently.

So this weekend I went seriously easy on myself and did very little. On Saturday evening Pete and I went for a speedy run around Ely in frankly gorgeous weather, managing a chatty 5.4 miles in 40:30 which would put me in a comfortable 10k PB position. And then on Sunday morning I did Zumba with Elaine, laughing most of the way through the class at her antics before going to coffee with her where we put the world to rights for over and hour.

Scrolling through Facebook and Twitter later that day I did feel a pang of envy at those who had done the run, but I knew I had made the right decision. Sometimes you have to walk (or indeed run) away from something because it’s the right thing to do at that moment, even if the competitive part of you is yelling at you to just do it anyway and sod the consequences. Plus I have the Town & Gown 10k in two weeks, and after my run with Pete I’m now looking forward to it, feeling strong and confident that my chances of a good run are high.

Sometimes I have to admit that my coach knows better than I do and that it’s OK to have an incredibly lazy weekend where you leave an indentation in the armchair because you’ve read 150 pages of your book and not moved for two hours except to reach for another chocolate. Sometimes you just need to do nothing.

And ok, so I did bake biscuits on Sunday afternoon, but they were easy ones, honest!

GIRL RUNNING LATE

Tiny person running her way through life. Boring workout gear is not for me.

Tag: london marathon