Date: April 21, 2024

Distance: 26.66 miles

Listened to: The crowds and a few musical numbers

I have purposefully left almost a week before trying to my order my thoughts about the London Marathon. I spent so long dreading and looking forward to it that when you have actually completed it, it feels like such a small part of the whole effort. I am not just talking about the training but all the administration and organisation that goes into getting to the start line and back home again.

We were very lucky in terms of transportation and accommodation. Kind friends let us stay in a family flat in County Hall near the London Eye and one of the same kind friends – shout out to Cath – drove us there and back. This removed all the headache and expense of where to stay, and how and when to travel. The fun bus (VW Golf) of Cath, Abs and us left Kingsbridge at 2pm on Friday heading to central London to give us time to collect our number the next day.

To say I was nervous would be putting it mildly! Somewhat terrified would probably cover it but I was also looking forward to getting it done so I did not have to be terrified any more! I wish this had not been the case and I could just enjoy the moment. Alas, this is not how I am made. My biggest fear was feeling rubbish too soon in the race and having to drag myself through the remainder feeling truly awful. I was fully expecting to find it challenging but was hoping that the hard times would not kick in until around 16 miles and that the crowds and determination would get me through. Despite the worries, I slept fairly well, ate my Ready Brek, packed my bag, completed the requisite number of toilet visits (four if you are interested) and was good to go.

Anyone who has travelled by train or tube to the start will tell you it is not a pleasant experience. Everyone is packed in. Bodies touching strangers’ bodies. In our carriage, we also had a man who was trying to supress a cough. At one point, I could feel and hear his breath on my neck. It was gross but I knew that if I caught a virus in that moment, it would not affect my run.

From the sweat box of the train, we emerged into the fridge that was Blackheath. A cold wind was making the really speedy runners, who tend not to carry too much extra weight, visibly shiver. The rest of us, with a little more flesh, were not faring much better. The timing of loo visits (yes, there were more) and putting your kit bag on the trucks had to be perfected to avoid getting too cold. You were able to dump extra clothing at the start so death by exposure could be avoided. All the clothes would be donated to charity so there was no waste. John was a smart boy. He got himself to front of his wave and helped himself to extra layers to block out the wind. He also espied some disposable handwarmers on the ground and made full use of these!

Having bid goodbye to my kit bag and fellow Kingsbridge runner, Darren, it was time to go. The mantra was to keep it slow to save some energy for the latter stages. This worked well. I had a few chats with some fellow runners along the way. Watched Exeter Chiefs Women’s head coach Susie Appleby scream past me early doors. Sadly, I somehow missed Cath, Abs, Lou and Gareth at the three-mile mark, and then my college friend Sue at the Woolwich roundabout, and also my friend Cat’s wife at seven miles.

There are just so many people. I was worried (no way Caz, you were worried?) that I would find the crowds overwhelming but I found them comforting and supportive. I had thought about not putting name on my vest but was glad I did. Hearing a stranger shout you on is seriously uplifting.

My next set of supporters to spot were my daughter Ella, her friend Neve and my good friend Mel. I knew they would be at Bermondsey at around mile 12. They even gave me landmarks so I would not miss them. It was lush to see them and get a hug. Having missed so many others, I was relieved to actually lay eyes and hands on my own peeps.

So far so good. I had to walk for the first time on Tower Bridge. I felt really emotional here, I bit like the Cutty Sark, this part of the race actually reminds you you are doing the London Marathon. It was real. It was little old me not someone else doing this.

Whether it was that rush emotion or the nerves finally taking their toll, I began to develop a stitch-like pain in the centre of my rib cage. I went for another toilet visit to see if that helped, but it didn’t. Every time I tried to run, the pain came back but I was strangely calm about it because I knew I was going to finish this race by whatever means available to me.

Lucky, I guess, for me, I am a fast walker. I often annoy John with my walking pace. My Dad was a jaunty walker. I think I get my pace from him. So I embodied the Dad-swagger and went for it. I ran when I could but powered through at warp walking speed for the rest.

In a weird way, it made the marathon more enjoyable. It meant I got to high five all the kids and tapped all the ‘Power Up’ signs. I could interact with people who wished me well or sang ‘Sweet Caroline’ (this happened a lot!). I could read all the signs. By the way, ‘Pain is just French for bread’ is not funny but ‘Run like your mother just used your full name’ is. A drag queen blew me a kiss and I caught it! I had a hug from a women holding a glass of wine. I danced to the bands and the loudspeakers. I smiled all the way, apart from when I was whistling to big musical tunes. See below for whistling to Les Miserables’ ‘End of the Day’. I could also appreciate and concentrated on the miles I had dedicated to friends and family no longer with us or struggling right now.

I knew my friends and family watching the tracking app and TV may be a little worried, but I had time to let them know I was ok and also check where other supporters may be on the course. I still missed Sian and Stewart at mile 16 but saw Lou and Gareth, Emma and Steve (who waited four hours for me – sorry guys). Kate (who finished two hours before me), Cath and Abs, John (who smashed his PB from 25 years ago – so proud of you), and Ella and Neve before closing on that finishing line. I had done it. I had completed the London Marathon. I was happy.

The next morning was another matter. I was tearful and disappointed. I had really wanted to go under five hours even though I had tried not to put pressure on myself. I felt I was not good enough and that I had been kidding myself. Even with all the training, I was still the little girl who would be one of the last to be picked for a team in PE. I felt foolish for even trying…for hoping things were different now.

In the cold light of day, I knew deep down it was not going to be easy. I was nowhere near as fit as I was back in 2021. I was coming off the back of thyroiditis last summer, two colds, and hamstring aches and pains while being smack in the middle of the menopause. I am not one for excuses, despite the last sentence! I had hoped that if I went off slower, I could keep going for longer and the crowd we carry me on. I knew I would walk at some point but not so soon or for such prolonged periods. I was frustrated that the mystery stitch had held me back from running more miles. I know it is an achievement to finish a marathon but I wanted it to do it my way.

I was also concerned that nerves had just overcome me and halted my progress. The London Marathon is a big deal, especially if you are fundraising. You have to put yourself out there on social media. Everyone knows you are doing it. People are invested in what you are doing because they love you or have literally invested money in your cause. But the payback is the crowd. The razzmatazz is undoubtedly a motivating factor. If you swap the stress of a large event for a smaller, low-key race, you miss out on the wave of joy that carries you to the end.

While proud of the £6k we raised for charity, I guess I am ruing the missed opportunity of a flat course and a supportive crowd to try to get a better time. I just wanted to be better but am still glad it did it and have the medal to prove it.

Since London Marathon day, I have run a Beacon Park parkrun with John, Derek the dog, and friends Jo and Simon. The niggles and stitch pain were still there but I could still run. That should be enough. It is a gift to be able to move, to be able to breathe, and to have friends and family who love you.

My abiding memory of the London Marathon will be the wonderful humanity of others. Runners are lovely people, and so are their supporters and the event volunteers, not to mention all the generous sponsors that make it such a successful fundraising event. All those people want to help you and push you on. It is overwhelming in the very best way. It’s a truly humbling day for the appreciating the goodness of others.

Thank you to everyone who sponsored and supported us. It means a lot.

Date: April 16, 2024

Distance: 3.08 miles

Listened to: My own chat with Marissa discussing Sunday!

Last time out on this blog, I was full of moaning and self-loathing. Sorry about that gang. This time, I am full of fear and excitement. Even just downloading the TCS London Marathon 2024 app and clicking ‘Participant’ rather than ‘Supporter’ felt like a big moment!

Happy to report though that the left butt cheek pain has gone, and I have not had a cold (touching all the wood I can see right now) since then. I’ve still got a niggling right hamstring pain, but I have trained with this for the last few weeks, so a few more days will not make much difference. Hey, look at me being positive Caz!

To rewind a little, I had to miss my first 14-miler long run due to injury and my second three-week cold of 2024. I was upset, but I revised my plan to accommodate the set-back. I missed the next long run too and then ran 14 the following week up and down the Plym Valley Trail. From then on, I was back on track, adding two miles onto my long run for the next three weeks. The 16 went well. I retraced some of my Virtual London Marathon route from 2021 and bumped into fellow long-runners John (husband) and Marissa (lovely friend) along the way (see below).

The plan was to do the same, but add a little more on, for the 18-miler, but oh lordy, wasn’t that a bad day? I was stroppy and stoppy from the get-go. So much so, that I had to call in reinforcements in the form of my friend Abs, who ran the London Marathon last year.

I publicly thank her from the bottom of my heart for that support. I was a nightmare! She knows me so well that she understood exactly how to press my buttons. I wanted to quit, after a million walk breaks, at 14 miles. She reasoned that I was two miles from home and that we might as well try to run that and maybe a little bit more. She was so right. I finished my 18 – now officially known as the “Worst run ever” – and was glad I had done so. Think I would have bailed without my girl by my side.

Bored of the South Hams hills, a car-load of us headed to Exeter’s quayside for out longest run. I made myself feel positive but headed off the opposite direction to John and friends Kate and Darren to give myself some headspace after the 18-mile debacle. I also knew there was a toilet stop four miles into this route. Toilet planning is very important! I then followed in the Kingsbridge crew’s wake as I headed out towards Starcross (I am sure they were quaking in their trainers at the thought of me tracking them down) and noted a pub on the way out.

The flat was great, but it was devoid of resources in terms of somewhere to wee and fill up your water bottle. The pub came to my rescue on the return leg. My friend Cath (another London marathoner from last year) still tracks my phone after my marathon efforts from three years ago. She reported to our friends’ group chat the following: “Caz appears to be in a pub now?!?” This properly made me giggle and gave me a spring in my step. I bought an orange juice to offset the toilet use and water bottle re-fill and headed off to do my last five miles.

So longest run done. Whoop! Time to taper. Tapering is tough though. Not because I am worrying about running shorter distances, but because those shorter distances feel hard! The nine-miler the following weekend felt super effortful, as did last Friday’s six. This is when I started to panic. Well, started panicking even more! I know the marathon is going to be hard; I just don’t want it to feel too hard too early on.

Just five days to go now and I am eating everything in sight, trying to do easy activities and trying not to get too stressed! Please keep everything you have crossed for me that I have a good day. I truly want to enjoy the experience, soak up the atmosphere, enjoy the flat, hug my friends who have come to support the gang of us that are doing it, maybe meet a few fellow runners along the way (see team manager Cat and head coach Susie from Exeter Chiefs Women below), and raise shedloads of cash for the RFU Injured Players Foundation (supported by none other than Jonny Wilkinson). Thank you to everyone who has sponsored us. We are on our way to £5k!

Then I am looking forward to enjoying guilt-free wine, not having my every waking thought dominated by running, getting the job done, showing the menopause who’s boss, achieving this dream that I never thought was even possible for someone like me, and wearing my medal for about a month!

Date: February 27, 2024

Distance: 3 miles (walking)

Listened to: The birds, the sea and tractors

“Woah, we’re halfway there, wo-ho, were living on a prayer!” Ahhh, Bon Jovi…this song seems to have become the soundtrack to my last few weeks. But why?

1. John and I are halfway through London Marathon training and halfway to our fundraising total to allow us to run. This means one of us can run right now! I elect John as I am a bit broken (see below) and this was his idea for a birthday challenge. He hits 50 four days after the marathon.
2. Living on a prayer feels about right with the second cold of my marathon training meaning I have had to train five of the eight weeks feeling pretty grotty…and I have a pain in the arse. I am not being metaphorical…I have a sharp, nervy pain in my left butt cheek. Plus, I’m still ploughing through the good old menopause.
3. This was the tune we all leapt about to at our dear friend Amanda’s 50th birthday party having run 10 treacherous miles along the muddy canal path in Lichfield in the morning.

The fundraising has been awesome. So many generous friends, family, colleagues, ex-colleagues, clients, patients and others have dropped us a donation towards our charity, the RFU’s Injured Players Foundation, which supports rugby players in England who sustain a catastrophic spinal cord injury or traumatic brain injury while playing the game. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your amazing support.

Training though has been challenging for me. I did an Adriene YouTube yoga session today called “I Attract”. She asked the participants to consider what they attract and I shouted: “COLDS!” They really are my Achilles heel. What others shake off in a week, I hang onto for three weeks. It is so demoralising. All I want is a decent shot at training, and I feel I get dragged back by a virus at every turn. Yep, I am being Debbie Downer but it is tough watching everyone else rack up the runs when you can hardly breathe!

I thought I had this one beat. I had managed to keep training the week before last and even got myself through a respectable 12-mile long run plus a Valentine’s Day training session (see below) with John. Romance is not dead people! I was almost looking forward to the following weekend when I could run 14 miles without being ill. Foolish woman! The cough really ramped up in the next week and a treadmill interval session last Thursday was my last bit of action. I worked Saturday but Sunday came and went…and the 14 miles did not get done. Meanwhile, everyone else ticked their long runs off.

This is when the panic sets in. I really want to be ready for this marathon but how will I be ready if I cannot train? Even if I stay off Strava, so I do not see everyone else’s efforts, there seems to be a whole host of people I’ve never seen before out on the streets. I’ve never seen so many runners! It’s like they are all mocking me. I know I am being irrational but this is an honest space and I like to share.

I have listened to all the advice from John and runner friends who assure me I am ok to miss a few sessions, but it is still a big worry. I know I will still be at the start line, but I wanted to be there in my best shape possible and viruses seem to want to steal that from me.

This is also where the menopause is very unhelpful. One of the worst symptoms is crippling anxiety. For me, it’s like someone chucks a dark blanket over my head and all reason goes to pot. I cannot see the light. Whereas I have been able to reason my way out of doubts and fears in the past, this anxiety does not want to be reasoned with. Add this little worry spirit to a mixer of ‘maranonia’ and that is one toxic cocktail!

I joke about it, and there must have been thousands of women who have run marathons while going through the menopause, but I wonder how it affected them? Not just the anxious thoughts, but also the extra weight, the lack of sleep, the aches and pains, the irrational fear of falling over, and don’t forget the excess sweating…these symptoms can’t make running 26.2 miles any easier. I’m not using menopause as pre-excuse for not running a sub-3 marathon because that is never going to happen, but I think it could well have an affect. Don’t think that research will be available too soon, scientists have not always included women in their studies of athletes, let alone the sweaty, slow ones in their 50s!

That leads me to the butt pain! Whether the result of the hilarious slippy, slidey, trying-to-not-fall-in canal path run (above – please note Derek’s ears – they are hilarious!) or being ill or being menopausal, the pain has made even dog walking tricky. For someone who likes to walk at a clip – I think I walk like my Dad – I have been limping along. The three miles I did from West Buckland to Bantham and back were evidence of this go-slow, painful mode, but I am hoping it will have helped. The sun and the beach always help my soul even if the pain did not subside.

In summary, marathon training has not been a bed of roses but there is still time apparently! I have another eight weeks – well, seven-and-a-half now – to go. Please let the viruses leave me alone, let the butt pain move on, and menopause just simmer rather than boil. A friend asked me what marathon time I was aiming for at the party we went to in Lichfield and I told him I just wanted to survive. People always want a time…and believe me, I would love one too but I think it would be kinder on my heart, legs and soul if I just aim to finish…if that’s ok with everyone else?

I am aiming to be more upbeat in my next update! Thanks for reading! If you want to donate to our marathon effort, the link is here: https://2024tcslondonmarathon.enthuse.com/pf/caroline-moore Thank you xxx

Date: August 20, 2023

Distance: None

Listened to: Center day 20 for yoga

This blog covers six months of running and two of not running! It has been a bizarre year that just has not worked out the way I thought it would. Not that I had any real grand plans. It was my year of being 50 so was thinking I might try for another marathon and maybe try to get a little bit faster. I was also keen to keep doing at least one half marathon each month as either an official race or a DIY effort.

It started off well. I had booked the Exeter City Community Trust Half Marathon to give me the impetus I needed for training. I weirdly like tramping the pavements in the cold dark evenings. The programme was also helped by several friends training for the London Marathon. We were all tramping the streets in January!

The January half was a DIY affair with a route up to Five Mile Lane and back. At nine miles, I was scooped up by London Marathon training duo Cath and Abs. Their faces are always welcome on any run…and the chat is always epic too. Basically, life gets sorted!

The Exeter Half was on the second weekend of February and involved two loops of half the waterfront and a visit to the Audi garage…twice! I travelled up with superhero runner Kate and her niece Chloe, who was running her first half. Funny story…Kate thought I might run with her! This woman is a marvellous machine (more on that later) that I could only dream of running alongside. Chloe was a little nervous and asked if I minded if she ran with me. We reckoned we had similar paces, so we should be good companions.

Now, Chloe is young and lives in a very hilly place. The Exeter course is almost all flat. So rather than the 9min 30sec miles we planned, her youth and enthusiasm meant we were nearing 9-minute miles at times. What on earth? This meant I recorded my best 10k time of 55mins 58secs with an average 9-minute mile pace.

I wish – I really wish – I could have sustained that pace, but at the halfway mark I made Chloe go on so I could take a breather and a drink. A few walky bits in the second half and I came in with a personal best of 2hours 43secs. Chloe went under two hours and Kate was in way before us! I was so close to that two hours, which is a time I never really thought I could break, let along get close to. I could kick myself for the two walk breaks I took. Lesson learned I guess, but equally my hip and knee had started to hurt and that was all I thought I had in me.

On the bright side, I got a load of gongs on Strava for personal bests with 20k, 10 miles and 15k to add to the half and the 10k times. It had been a good day. It also finished off my Doddie Aid challenge for 2023. Kate and I wore our Doddie snoods to remember the big man and clock our final miles.

Before my half in March, I agreed to run the Granite Way 10-miler with Rachel…except she was doing the 20-miler. Lordy, the first five miles were tough. I ended up tucking behind two women with one half of the duo shouting encouragement to the people who were running along the home leg. She was awesome. For every runner who passed us running the other way, she shouted: “Well done – keep going!” I needed her positivity in my life. Meanwhile, her friend was struggling like me. I felt I had found my clan! And what do you know, as soon as I turned the bend to run the remaining five miles back, I knew why we had found it tough; it had been a very slow uphill climb reminiscent of the out and back section of the Great West Run. Why can’t I see these hills? I must admit that I ditched the cheering squad and trundled my way back to the finish with fresh hope in my legs, seeing Rachel on the way out for her second loop. I was so relieved to get it done and excited to see Rachel finish so fast behind me.

I had another race booked for March with a return to the Hampton Court Palace Half Marathon. This was where I did my first half back in 2019, where I recorded a solid and very moany 2hours 27mins. I had secret hopes of maybe going under two hours at this one, but I did not even get to the start line on time! Rather a lot of rain meant people were keen to leave bags at the drop-off point, so getting to the start was a challenge (I did not even get a chance to have a last-minute wee), and the usually lovely riverside paths were beset with puddles meaning people were trying to run along the bottle-necked muddy verges. My gorgeous friend Mel and my godson Sam came to cheer me on, and I enjoyed the first 11 miles until the hip and knee started hurting again and I walked much of the park area behind the palace. I took 12 minutes off my previous time though and got to meet a fake Henry VIII (and his codpiece!)

The sore body saw me skip the April half, but I made up for it by walking a half marathon watching Cath and Abs achieve their dream of running the London Marathon. I managed to see them three times along the way, bursting with pride each time…but somehow managed not to see any of the other wonder women running it that day. In the mix was Kate, who was running London having run Boston just six days before. She went on to run the Rob Burrow Leeds Marathon a few weeks later too. Total legend! I also missed Rachel who recorded her fastest ever marathon. It’s not easy being friends with these people…actually it is easy, they are just fast!

I got back on track-ish for May to mark my Dad’s birthday. Again, Cath and Abs (below) scooped me up for the final four miles. They are my rocks.  

And then it all went a bit wrong. Despite adding in strength training, Clubbercise and Zumba into the mix to do the best job I could for my ageing body, running was becoming really hard. I would find myself out of breath after half a mile and constantly needing to stop. I had lost my stamina for going slightly longer distances too. Meanwhile, my work life had become very stressful, and I felt like I was heading from the perimenopause stage into the menopause. It was a fun time folks!

The final turning point was when we went on holiday to France, and I started suffering from a sore throat that made it hard to swallow. Then I found I had lost three kilos in weight despite having come back from a week where I had eaten pastries every single day and drank a fair amount of wine!

A load of blood tests later and I was diagnosed with thyroiditis. I was not just stressed and/or menopausal, I was sick. I must give credit to my friend Lou for diagnosing a thyroid issue before the doctor did! Aside from the weight loss and the shortness of breath, the symptoms were consistent with stress and menopause: sensitivity to heat, aching, difficulty sleeping, increased anxiety, so easy to see why I just ignored the warning signs. I simply had not realised I was sick and was just ploughing on. With the diagnosis came the advice to quit doing exercise that raised my heart rate and I am still in this situation six long weeks later.

I feel well now and am just walking the dog and doing some yoga (usually with Derek too). The five-year anniversary of Dad’s death arrived, and I could not mark it with a run as usual, so I opted for swim in the sea instead. He would have approved. I am now just waiting for the blood tests to reveal my thyroid levels are good again and for GP to let me know I can go back to more strenuous exercise.  It will feel like starting from zero but I had to listen to my body (and my friends and family). I hope the last third of the year fares a little better. I won’t be trying to squeeze a marathon in there!

Date: January 10, 2023

Distance: 4 miles

Listened to: Two halves of two podcasts

I do a running review at the end every year but was a little reluctant as we headed in 2023, as I did not feel I had much to report. I decided that was a terribly defeatist attitude and gave myself a talking to! True, my mileage dropped off. Having crawled to 1,000 miles in 2021, I did not even get to 1,000 km (621 miles) in 2022. It was the Year of the Virus. A bad cold at the start of the year grounded my Run Every Day (RED) January attempt before it had even started, a virus in April, Covid in July, followed by a cold almost every month for the rest of the year brought me to standstill. Every time I tried to start again, I would get another virus. It was soul destroying at times.

But there were highlights! Nothing as stupendous as the three marathons of 2021, but little bits of joy that have made me want to come back for more.

Top five 2022 running highlights:

1. Swansea Half: This was the first half race I have run without stopping or walking. Even got a flying feet photo (my first)!
2. Exeter Half – the flat one: I ran this with my friend Marissa. It was her first half and she was awesome. We had a great day.
3. Kingsbridge 10k: Took 10 minutes off my previous time. Great to see friends at Goldings’ Corner and at the finish line. (FYI It is still a hideous course).
4. Running in Central Park: It’s an iconic thing to so and I did it four times! It’s a bumpy old park though. I somehow thought it would be flat.
5. Running with friends: I am finally managing it without having a nervous breakdown!

Notable absence is the Great West Run in Exeter (not the flat one). It is gross. I will never do it again, although it was lovely to see my work colleagues at the end though. The end of the race is always good.

I also failed to run at least a half marathon a month. This did make me sad but I really was not well enough.

I have gone backwards from 2022 in terms of fitness, speed and distance, but am hoping I can get it back. Now at the grand old age of 50, I have other races I want to do, but more importantly, I just want to be able to keep running. I like it… I’m such a weirdo!

I have signed up to Doddie Aid to remind me that being able to run at all is a privilege. Today was day 10 of the six-week challenge. I was tinkering with the idea of RED January but my sensible physio husband reminded me that due to my lack of running in the last six months, my body would not thank me for continuous pavement pounding. Instead, I am doing something active every day. I will run four days of every week (usually in the rain at the moment), do Clubbercise one day, and then add in all the dog walking for the other two ‘rest’ days. I have racked up 58 miles so far and will end it with the Exeter Half (the flat one). I have another half booked in March and I am eyeing up a few other races.

If 2022 was the Year of the Virus, I hope 2023 is the Year of Wellbeing.

Date: July 21, 2022

Distance: 10k

Listened to: My own very loud breathing and Golding Corner x 2

I thought this event was worth a mention as the Kingsbridge 10k had formed part of my introduction to running back in 2018. Back then, I was full of fear and trepidation as I signed up to what must be one of the hardest 10k courses ever…in the world…ever…fact. Four years on, and I was still full of fear and trepidation, and almost did not sign up for it.

I had tried to allay my fears by attempting to run the route every month in 2021 and into 2022. My friend Marissa adopted the same technique and, more often than not, we would head out together, sometimes with others, to get the distance done. My enthusiasm for the monthly jaunts waned, but I was always tucking in some element of the race in my regular runs. Marissa, though, stayed true to her goal and continued to run the 10k route every month in preparation for the day the race would be run again post-Covid restrictions.

The day had come, Kingsbridge Fair Week was back on, which meant the 10k was a goer. Marissa was one of the first to sign up – that’s my girl – but I just wasn’t feeling it. When I say ‘it’, I mean I was still scared. Yes, I had done it before but that meant I knew how horrible it was!

The sign-up site described it like this: “From the start, the course goes up through the main street of Kingsbridge and quickly moves into the countryside climbing to a ridge which is at the highest part of the course…. The course then descends down a steep, picturesque route talking the runners back into town.”

I will pass over to Marissa for a more accurate description: “You will start running uphill, then carry on going uphill. After a bit of flat, there will be a Satan hill. Then more flat. Then you will have a lovely sense of ease until you start going uphill again, then again and you will start to swear at the hills. And just when you think you’ve got an easy downhill on the home straight, there is a tiny bit more uphill.”

It may be the journalist in me, but Marissa’s description is definitely the more truthful and it does not even cover all of the hills! Truth is, there are people who have run marathons that avoid the Kingsbridge 10k but even though I knew how gross it was, I still could not let it go by. It was also a chance to measure my progress in the last four years.

In 2018, my aim was to get round and truly advocate that slow running was still running. Dad was alive at this point and his lack of mobility was a driving force behind my foray into running. And I did get round. I could hear the safety car behind me most of the way, but I did it by walking whenever I got panicky or the hills proved too much. I did a lot of walking! As my second ever race, I began panicking from minute one and by the time I hit the bottom of Fore Street, my legs and my lungs had frozen. I ended up coming in 1 hour 11 minutes later.

I knew I could do the distance in 2022 but was not sure how I was going to do it. I had run every section of that route, but never put together an all-out run for the entire 10k. I had a dress rehearsal a few weeks before, determined to run every step. I achieved this but needed rests at the top of the hardest hills to get my breath back. While my moving time was 1 hour 2 minutes, my elapsed time was 1 hour 5 minutes and that would have been my race time. I was not convinced the all-out running approach was going to suit me.

I still had not signed up as Fair Week began, but the thought of watching others do it did not rest easy with me, so I paid my money and registered. All I wanted to do was beat my 2018 time. But even if I didn’t…who on earth would care? It was also the last time that Golding Corner would be a feature. Good friends Suzi and Tim Golding have a house on the route that the runners pass twice. It is the perfect spot for supporters to gather and cheer us on. With a potential move on the cards, this was likely to be the last time Golding Corner would be Golding Corner.

The field was a small one of around 70. Either Marissa’s course description had got out or the recent heatwave had put people off. It meant I recognised a large number of the field with some close friends amid the ranks. I was jittery as usual but in a controlled way. I just wanted to get round and be a little bit faster.

I ran up Fore Street, which I did not to do that last time. At one point, I was running alongside my friend Ross, but then life slipped back into normal and he flicky-runned his way to the top. FYI He has a very flicky, bum-heel-grazing style. Then it was up to the primary school, but I just could not run all that hill. The race nerves gripped me again and I had slowed to a manic walk pace. At the top, Ali was waiting for me as she wanted to chat to someone along the way. I managed the primary school ridge with her and enjoyed the Golding Corner fanfare but then made her go ahead. I think I knew from that point that I was going to walk the hills and she is a better runner than me.

And that’s what I did, I walked the hills but ran like a loon on the flat and the downhill. I really pushed myself. I must have really annoyed people who were methodically plodding it out and I was charging past them, only to be caught by them on the hills again. The method did shake of a few steady runners as my lunacy got me far enough ahead at times and I felt good going into Golding Corner part two.

Somewhere along the downhill section of Church Street, I started to shiver and feel a little sick but knew I was less than a kilometre away. I still could not run the little kicker rise at the end though…one I do every time I run the route away from race day. Once at the top, I just wanted to get it over with but still managed a high-five with my ninja running friend Kate as I crossed Derby Road. By the time I had crossed the line, George, Rachel, Ross and Ali were safely through with Rach coming in as third placed woman and Ali going under one hour (George and Ross were also way under one hour too, in case you were wondering). No official results posted this year, but Strava tells me I did it in 1hour 1min. Despite my run/walk method, I had managed to take 10 minutes off my previous time. Jo, Marissa (legend) and Si came in shortly after to complete our little crowd of finishers. The reason Marissa is a legend (albeit there are many reasons) is that she had run 18 monthly practice 10ks to finally get the job done. That is dedication!

I would have dearly loved to get under the hour but would have had to run more to get there. Sounds obvious, doesn’t it? But I was not prepared to do that and really did not feel I could. I am chuffed with my progress though. It shows what plugging away can achieve. I am still a slower runner when I compare myself to the rapid crazies that knock-out marathons and the odd ironman for fun, but I have got quicker and know I can do the distance, which I was not convinced I could do in 2018.

A week after the race, I caught Covid on a trip to Portugal and am still suffering with it now. When you are too exhausted to even walk the dog, it puts running into perspective. Just being able to do a tiny run would feel like a luxury right now. If you can do it, keep doing it. You might even improve with time!

#slowrunningisstillrunning #runwalk #dowhatyoucan

Date: Sunday, June 12, 2022

Distance: 13.1 miles

Listened to: Mostly Taylor Swift’s folklore (it really chills me out)

It’s been a while! Since writing my last blog at the end of 2021, I have kept running – sometimes sporadically due to winter illnesses – and have tucked a further three half marathon races under my belt:

1. Exeter Half Marathon – February 13
2. Great West Run – May 22
3. Swansea Half Marathon – June 12

I had not really planned to do the first two and the last one had been postponed from 2020, but they have kept my medal haul ticking over and given me a range of race experiences.

I loved the Exeter Half! It took me back to where I had run my only marathon race four months before. Remember the one? The one that had made me question why I was even bothering with the distance as I had not even nailed a 10k or half at that point without walking! Obviously feeling cheery that day!

Despite the Eeyore attitude, I was looking forward to this one as I knew the route and I had the confidence of knowing that I could survive 26.2 miles, so should be able to do the half. I was also running with friends. Six of us from Kingsbridge – Abs, Ali, Cath, Marissa, Rachel and I – turned up for the second day of the Exeter Half. True to say, we were a mixed bag of abilities, with a few first-timers in our midst, a Covid-recover, and a superfast legend. I was there for one of the first-timers, my lovely friend Marissa. No easing into racing for this brave woman. No 5k or 10k as a warm-up…straight in for the half! Boom! What a woman. Having given up running for a little while, she had regained her mojo and was smashing it. She trained diligently for this half and I was happy to be her wing woman. Despite the rain and puddles, it was lush. We chatted. We listened to music. We had wee stops. We had snacks and Love Hearts. We had a good time and Marissa went home with a well deserved medal. I have so much admiration for her positivity and strength.

Meanwhile, our Covid-recover had struggled round with some gentle coaxing from her bestie, but had still done it in a good time. Our other first-timer had gone sub-two hours. And Rach – our superfast legend – had come second and had got herself a trophy (I did tell her before she set off that she could win it – second will more than suffice). What a day! And despite the awful weather, we had stalwart support from Lou and Kate. We were all smiley. It was a lovely shared experience and it was wonderful to see Marissa achieve her goal.

Somewhere in between this Exeter half and the next, I found some confidence. I was running faster and getting up hills easier. I was in a little bit of a groove and was chuffed, then bam, another virus took me down…and kept me down. I had dreams of doing my DIY April half around Central Park during our family holiday to NYC, but it never came to fruition. My groove was gone. However, I did run in Central Park four times, including a few runs with John and one with Maggie, where we ran to the Alexander Hamilton statue. Central Park is amazing – but not flat – with lanes for runners, cyclists, and horses . You can see runners of all speeds, ages, shapes and sizes, and there a loads of them. It’s pretty cool.

Back in the UK and I was heading towards another Great West Run run, which I had sworn I would never do again. Having done it twice, I will definitely never do it again! It’s not for me…especially when it is hot. I had signed up to support Andy at work who was running to raise money for the Samaritans. This somehow culminated in the creation of a running club – the swcomms Running Club – with five of signed up to do it. One of our team dropped out before due to life overtaking any training plans, but that left Andy, me, Lucy and Jezz.

Lucy is a seasoned pro in my opinion. She started running when her dad died, so very like me in that respect. Our speeds though differ greatly! She is silly fast and a true inspiration. Andy was taking on the Great West and all its hills as his first race ever, and this was to be Jezz’s first race half too. We knew we were not going to run together but me met up before (in our matching T-shirts) and waited to see each other in.

Race day was alarmingly hot! I do not like the heat at all when I am running. I also somehow got it into my head that it would be really nice to do somewhere between a sub two-hour time (of course it would) and my previous time of 2hrs 21mins. I mean, the cavern between those times is huge! I started off way too fast (just maybe with half an eye on the two-hour pacer) before wanting to pull out at five miles. I have really never considered pulling out of a race before, despite whinging a lot in previous races, and that’s a horrible feeling when you know you have eight miles to go. I ran at around nine-minute mile pace for the first four miles, but there was no way I could sustain that and that’s why the wheels came off. I picked up again at around six miles but walked the rest of the hills. No negative split for this race!

I ended up coming in at 2hrs 13mins, so beat my previous time but felt I had let myself down in terms of pacing. The rest of the crew were awesome. I take my hat (that I should have worn) off to Andy and Jezz. It is a tough course and it was bloomin’ hot. Did I say it was hot? What a baptism of fire for a first half…or race in Andy’s case. Total heroes!

Having been full of beans in February, I was full of doubt and self-loathing, for being full of doubt, come the Swansea Half. I made the mistake of listening to a podcast about half marathon training just before in which the coach said: “You need to be able to stand on the start line and know you can do the distance.” I really was not sure that I knew that. I had not followed a training plan, so was really uncomfortable with being confident. Still, I had paid for my place two years ago (stupid Covid) and was going to get it done. Instead of the two-hour mark, my aim was to run every step. No stopping. No walking. I have never run an entire race and not treated my self to a little walkie, but this was a flat course, so I was going to give it a go fuelled by porridge and banana served to me by my sister-in-law.

I had booked myself into the 2hr to 2hr 15mins pen, so hung around at the back where the 2hr 10mins pacers joined us. The plan was to stay near them, try to keep below 10-min mile pace and hang on! I needed to find a happy medium between the two Exeter half marathons and I did just that. My slowest mile was 9.45mins and my fastest was 9.17mins. I did use my watch to check on my pace throughout and tried to enjoy the occasion…and the flat. I also donned a tennis player style visor for the day as it was another hot one.

There were times in the last three miles when walking seemed like such as favourable option, especially when other runners are doing just that, but I knew I would be super chuffed if I just kept going. When I was really struggling, I thought about my friend Cath, who has ruptured her Achilles tendon in the first week of training for London Marathon just a few days previously, and used her as an inspiration to not give up. I was glad to see that finish line though and I was super happy to get a half marathon PB of 2hrs 5mins on Strava or 2hrs 6mins according to the race stats, but was even happier to have run every step. Disclaimer: It is still ok to walk, I just wanted to see if I could do a race without walking!

The Eeyore-ness (definitely a word) of the Exeter Marathon had been replaced with a bit of Tigger-ness! My aim for this year was to run a 10k and a half marathon without stopping and Swansea had delivered. I also found that I could appreciate my fellow runners and the supporters more. This was my first real race on my own since the Bristol 10k before Dad had even died and where this blog started. Since then, I had always managed to race with friends or John to help mitigate the pre-race nerves, even if we ended up running separately. I know now that most runners are really lovely. They are very supportive and friendly, as are the supporters. You enjoy friendships that last a few seconds or minutes along the way. No-one is out to tell you that you are rubbish and the feeling of being one of the last to be picked for the team is irrelevant.

Date: Thursday, December 30, 2021

Distance: 14.3 miles

Listened to: My own whinging!

Darn those tracking apps and their end of year stats round-ups. I have not been on Strava long enough to warrant such a report, but I have recorded all my runs via my Garmin watch. A glance at these stats told me I needed around 40 miles to get to 1,000. This was exciting. This was a real milestone!

And then I got a virus. Not THE virus. Whatever the virus was, I felt really awful. No running for me. One week I could take. Two weeks off and I was fidgety…not for running per se but the fear of not getting those miles done. I ran 10 miles on December 5 and then did not run again until December 22. I was so frustrated as I had envisioned getting a good chunk of those miles done in and around Lichfield utilising the joy of the flat towpath. But our visit to see friends in Staffordshire came and went and I still had not run.

I did eventually get back to running with a 10k back on the hills of the South Hams. It was slow but I was grateful to be out of bed and out and about. I sneaked in four miles on Christmas Eve and then five on Christmas Day on my way to the beach for the annual nutter fest that is a dip at South Milton. My hip protested a little on the way down towards South Milton, but I kept going as we had an 11am appointment with the sea and I thought I would run it off. I hobbled around for the rest of the day and the day after that and so on. Now I was post-viral with a sore hip with 14.3 miles to go and my last monthly half marathon still to do too.

Time was running out! I could not let 1,000 miles go by. I should at least give it a go or it would be a very grumpy end of 2021 and probably start of 2022. I aimed for New Year’s Eve eve. As ever, I had friends to get me through. Even so, it was hands down the worst run of my life! No lungs and no legs. No arms even! All my limbs felt heavy and breathing was a challenge, along with the hip pain. It was genuinely dreadful. I had to stop my friends and ask them to walk the hills (even the shallow inclines). I was thoroughly miserable.

There was one highlight though. When we stopped at the highest point to bag the usual selfie (which I cannot even post because I look horrendous!), I saw a message from good friends that their new baby girl had arrived. My joy was short lived though. My dear friends were so patient and could see I was in genuine distress about how I was feeling and told me stop at 13.1 miles to at least get the half done. However, the thought of having to go out again the next day to do 1.2 miles did not sit well with me, so I crawled on to get the distance done. I cannot even post the photo from this…I look horrendous!

What a palaver! While I was overjoyed to get to 1,000, my over-riding feeling was worry that my running mojo had upped and left. Supposing that was how all my future runs would be from now on? Over the top panicking? Maybe…just a bit.

I had done a lot of it in 2021 and pushed myself way beyond what I thought was possible: three marathons, at least a half marathon every month, a monthly Kingsbridge 10k and 1,000 miles is ridiculous! I don’t want to stop now. I have things I want to achieve and really like the smug eat-all-you-like post-run feeling.

I crept out again for two miles on January 3 and three on January 5. I still felt rubbish with daily yoga sessions also making my legs feel heavy. A 10k with Abs saw me right though. I was very wobbly before, worrying that my lungs and legs still weren’t ready. We wobbled out together, walked a few hills but other than that, felt somewhere near my old self. I also coughed up some extra gunk too (excuse the graphic detail) that I felt had been constricting my breathing for a while. Thanks for getting me out lovely lady. Sorry about the gunk!

Last week was better still with two five-milers, a half and a 5k in the bag. I’m not where I was back in late September but I am not panicking any more. I returned to the scene of the rubbish 14.3 miles for my half and am pleased to report it went a lot better! Think my friends found me better company too.