Date: Sunday, November 7, 2021

Distance: 26.2 miles

Listened to: A couple of Desert Island Discs episodes and chats with some new friends

If you have not read the kids’ books, That’s Not My Teddy, That’s Not My Dinosaur and so on, then the title of this blog will not mean much, but hopefully you will get the gist by the end of it!

It’s taken me a few weeks to order my thoughts about this marathon, hence the delay and I’m still not sure if I am there yet, but here’s what I think right now. The Exeter Marathon was supposed to be my first marathon back in April 2021.

I had signed up on the advice of my super-running friend (super runner and super friend) Rachel. In her mind, if you are feeling good, why not sign up? And, if you don’t sign up, you’ll never do it. She was right, of course, but her perspective is slightly different than mine. Rachel ran her fastest marathon to date on this flat course after only running for a few years. She went from a novice to Good For Age time to qualify for the London Marathon in a blink of an eye. She is seriously impressive. As many of our mutual friends say: “Never compare yourself to a Mahood.” Just to clarify, her surname is Mahood!

The pandemic meant the April date was delayed to November, so I choose to do a DIY marathon locally instead in April before signing up for the Virtual London Marathon that took place last month. That meant there were just five weeks between the Virtual London and Exeter…and I had no clue how to train in between the two! The general consensus was that I had done the training for the Virtual London and that would be enough. Meanwhile, other Exeter participants were knocking out 20-mile runs while I was still pootling about. I did a few runs around the town, my fastest alternative Kingsbridge 10k (under an hour if you are interested) and a 17k to commemorate the 17th birthday of my cousin’s son Tait, who passed away two years ago. That was it! I felt woefully underprepared but had to trust in the training I had done before.

I wasn’t the only one from Kingsbridge who had signed up for the Exeter Marathon. Nine of the 190 people who took part were known to me. We made up almost 5% of the start list! Rachel offered the local crew a lift to Exeter in their van – the fun bus – and it was then I realised I may be on the wrong bus! Of the seven on the bus, six had taken part in The Royal Marines Iron Challenge, with the tagline “Where iron becomes steel”, in September. They had attempted a 2.4-mile sea swim, a 112-mile bike ride and a coastal marathon that included more than 3,500 metres of climbing! The only one who was not an ironman competitor was me. WHY WAS I ON THIS BUS? IT’S NOT SLOW ENOUGH!

I was on the bus because they are all lovely. They are flipping speedy but that does not mean I do not like them. Where I probably beat them all hands down though is my prolific pre-race pooing efficiency. Two at home and one on the portaloo. Boom. Done. I thank you! If only the Olympic movement could see fit to open up events for pooing and apostrophes, I would be on that podium for sure.

Rachel’s husband George commented on how calm I was before the race. I think I had been in denial since the Virtual London that Exeter was going to happen, but here I was at the start line…. Actually I was not at the start line. We all had to run a fair way from the portaloos to get to the start line. It caught us a little by surprise and I think I ran faster to the start than I did at any point in the race! And then we were off…my first official marathon race with no John in my support crew (as he was at a rugby match with Maggie) and no cause to raise money for. This one was just all about running and, if I am honest, just me rather than about my Dad.

The Exeter Marathon is a two-loop, very flat course with plenty of opportunity to see your buddies on the way. I managed to keep up with Tim and Vienna for a few miles before letting them go ahead so I could concentrate on my own pace. I waved merrily to my fellow van riders in the distance and plodded along. It was a sunny day and the first half went by without any incident. I tracked a few fellow competitors to keep my pace consistent. As we went into the second loop and the field began to stretch out, the headwind picked up and I saw that as a perfect excuse to walk. I do not know why my brain tells me to walk, but it does and I dutifully obey!

I was very much buoyed by the presence of my eldest daughter Ella, my mum and step-father, my work colleague Lucy, and my lunatic friends and families who had driven up from Kingsbridge to support the nine of us, but I still wanted to walk. As I went though the historic quay area of Exeter, I caught up with a gentleman who I spotted earlier in the race who had a very unique running style…and had just finished his second cup of tea along the way. This turned out to be my new running friend for the next seven miles. Introducing Andrew Bickle, who was running his 542nd marathon! I asked him why he was running/walking with me and shouldn’t I be running behind him as a sign of respect, but he seemed keen to chat, so we trundled along together.

As a former journalist, I like to ask questions (it also means I do not have to talk so much), so I got to know about his favourite races, his family and the rest of the 100 Marathon Club runners in this race. One dude was on his 770th! His stories were crazy and made me feel very humble. These people don’t train during the week, they just pop out for a causal marathon every weekend. I could not tell if Andrew liked the company or could sense my enthusiasm for the event was dwindling, but he stuck by me, even when I dropped my headphones and had to run back. He walked when I walked despite me insisting he run on. He told me I would make it under five hours if I kept moving. I have no clue if I would have got under five hours without him, but it was great to spend time with such a prolific runner (nutter).

As we neared the 25-mile mark, I spotted my friend Rachel. She has been suffering from sinusitis for two weeks before this event but still wanted to give it a go. She had given up after the first loop but was encouraged to keep going (by one of Andrew’s friends)… and here I was catching up with her. Although it was lovely to run with Rachel, I also knew it meant she had been suffering. She had also got lost, which did not help, but it gave me a rare opportunity to finish a race with her.

The rest of our friends had finished long before with Ross and Si getting the deserved sub-four hour marathon they were chasing, Kate casually strolling in under four hours too, with the rest posting awesome times as well. This meant the cheering squad was a strong one with all runners, friends and families waiting for us. I was so happy to see them! It gave me the extra impetus to finish strongly, which made me look like I was trying to get a place ahead of Andrew, Rachel and another lady we had scooped up along the way. I really wasn’t (no-on will believe me); I just wanted to get to the end. I think the others slowed a bit too.

It was done and I was very happy that it was done. I was full of hugs and smiles (Andrew got one whether he wanted or not) and I got to pose in a photo with the other fantastic Kingsbridge runners.

Here comes the awkward bit. I thought I had recorded a time of 4hrs 45mins as that is what Strava said, but in my enthusiasm, I forgot about the time I stopped for a wee and to take on fuel. My time was actually 4hrs 53mins. For some reason that really crushed me. I had got under five hours, which was my aim, but I really preferred 4hrs 45mins to 4hrs 53mins. Those eight minutes upset me. Then the fact the time mattered to me really annoyed me. I am supposed to be the self-imposed ambassador for the slow runner and here I was worrying about time.

I think the walking, or the compulsion to walk, is where I feel the most disappointment. I wish I did not feel that way. I need my brain to tell me to do something else or I need more stamina and fitness or both. I need to try harder to not give up running sooner. Sorry to bang on about the Mahoods, but in the second book of his Did Not Finish series, George (who also finished the Exeter Marathon in under four hours by the way) writes about his friend who told him and Rachel off for not hurting enough after a marathon as they obviously did not try hard enough. I want to be able to run comfortably but I think you need to run uncomfortably for while to get to that stage, and definitely should feel uncomfortable if you want to get faster. Next time around, I will try harder or at least try to not listen to my brain as much.

All that said, I do appreciate how far I have come and not just the 26.2 miles on the day. I did wonder if there was any point me trying to be a marathon runner if I cannot run one in that four-hour region. But it’s something to work on or just what I am capable of…and that’s ok. I did all the training and completed the race. As it stands, I can also run 10k and a half marathon whenever I choose. A 10k would have been more more than enough for me three years ago and a half marathon two years, even one year, ago.

What now? I still have some unfinished business. When I ran the Bristol 10k, I did some walking. I have also walked in all of my half marathon races to date. I would like to do these distances and not walk. Then I will probably just keep on running and see where it takes me. I ran an unplanned half on Sunday, so I know I have improved from the frightened woman who took to the 10k start line in May 2018. I still think I have more to learn. I will try to get fitter and more resilient too. I’m just not a Good For Age in two years kind of gal, but I have done the distance.

Date: Sunday, October 3, 2021

Distance: 26.2 miles

Listened to: Running podcasts, angry break-up songs and some show tunes…and the cheers of my friends and family

It’s done. It’s only taken me nearly four years to get here, but I have run an official marathon. Never did I believe I would actually get my hands on a London Marathon medal. That was what other people did. Not me. But I have one…a real-life medal!

I ran the distance amid the peaks and troughs near my home. I started off at 6.59am and finished at 1.12pm. The marathon app official timer had me coming in at just under 5 hours, but me and my Garmin watch know these hills and the mile markers intimately, so my time should have been 5hrs 13mins.

I think this is important to state. I have met people or have read books about people who have gone from couch potatoes to incredible athletes who casually go under four, or even three, hours for a marathon. While admirable, this can be quite disheartening for less speedy runners. There is still a lot to be celebrated about a 5+ hour marathon!

It’s a tricky one for me because while I would love to be faster and more resilient in both mind and body, I also want to encourage people who want to aim for the distance at any pace…and that does not have to be a marathon. Without sounding preachy, it’s definitely ok to keep going and get the job done.

The marathon is also more than just the one day. It’s the result of months or even years of training, of making yourself go out when you least want to, for finding extra miles along the way to get the required training distance, for not drinking (in my case) and for constantly washing kit! I actually liked the training and ticking off sessions as I moved through the weeks. Who doesn’t like a list?

The training did scare me at times though. I followed a London Marathon plan with three runs in the week, trying to do the tempo ones when asked to, and a long one at the weekend. I did not miss a single session even if I had no idea how I was going to do some of the long runs and there were a few wretched ones! My best long run was the 20-miler three weeks before marathon day. I gave myself three short walking breaks to take on fuel and get up the steeper hills, but ran the rest. I was super chuffed with myself and it gave me the confidence I needed for October 3.

I did not have the best immediate build-up to the big day with a migraine the night before and a period making an untimely appearance, but I was always going to set off at 7am no matter how I felt physically. With more than £3,000 already collected in sponsorship money, I had to complete it to repay the generosity and faith people had shown in me.

Sponsorship blows me away. I definitely over-used my PR skills to drum up interest, but it was worth it to gain donations from all areas of my life: family (including relatives overseas), local and far-flung close friends, university and college friends, current and ex-colleagues, fellow runners, clients, friends of friends, parents’ friends, exercise class teachers and members, neighbours, John’s patients…all of them such kind and generous souls. One donation came from a friend I have not seen since I was 16 and it was a game-changer in terms of getting me to £4,000 for Dementia UK. It is such a humbling experience seeing the money come in and the messages that accompany them. I tried to write all their names on a single piece of paper, but needed four. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Back to the run. When you set you off on your own, there is a realisation of: “Oh, this is going to take a while!” Maybe on a race start-line, you don’t have these thoughts as you are swept up into the fuss and bother of running with a crowd, but when it’s just you, it can feel a little daunting. I was not on my own for long though.

Friends and family had combined to give me regular support throughout the morning. Kate was my earliest bird at about 1.5 miles and she popped up again at 2.5 and 3.5 with Cath. Along with the king of water and fuel John, Cath was an official tracker so had the onerous task of letting people know where I would be (thanks CathNav!) John appeared at 4.5 and 5.5 with Abs waving like a loon at 6.

And so it continued! Mum and Terry were at mile 9 (along with Marissa who ran a few miles with me), a collective crew, including Lou, at mile 10, three Mahoods at mile 12, Mel and family (who had travelled all the way from London) along Cattery, John, our girls and Derek the dog at the top of Cattery, then Rachel, Kate, Sophie, Mum and Terry at 15 miles, and so on. Suzi and Charlotte found me at 19 miles and Viv also tracked me down around 23 miles, while I also received a constant flow of text messages of support from around the world.

I mean…that is a whole morning of following me around and I have left out lots of cheer points. What absolute legends, especially around 22 when the rain arrived. They are all darlings and I love them to pieces.

The run did not entirely go to plan. I was struggling from mile 15, which was frustrating as I was happy with the 20-miler three weeks before. The wind was a struggle at times and I just did not have the resilience run up as many of the hills.

The other curveball was the official app. I quickly realised that its miles were shorter than the miles me and my Garmin are used to. Paula Radcliffe, Steve Cram and Adele Roberts were all very encouraging when their mile marker announcements interrupted whatever I was listening to, but Steve had me finishing (complete with rousing London Marathon music) at 25 miles by my watch. A quick conflab with my ‘Fast Girls’ friends had confirmed that I was going to go by the watch but it was a bit of a side swipe to be told I had finished when I had not finished. No offence Steve!

The finishing line featured all my cheering crew plus my mother-in-law and step-father-in-law, and friends Tim and Nobs. What a sight to behold! I had to video them so I can remember what they looked and sounded like. It was lush.

The Virtual Virgin Money London Marathon was so much more than just running for a long time. The training, the elevated body confidence, the lovely camaraderie and support, raising the money…and, of course, remembering Dad combined to make it an event and a half! Dad’s the reason I went on this quest. I did not know it would end up as a marathon, but it is a cool result to come out of sad circumstances.

#runningfordad

Date: Friday, August 20, 2021

Distance: 4.5 miles

Listened to: Have not decided yet

I am writing this before I head out as part of my training for the Virtual Virgin Money London Marathon on October 3. It has been a while since I contributed to this blog but today is the third anniversary of my dear Dad’s death, so it felt like it was time.

The title is both physical and emotional. Physically, ups and downs are part and parcel of living in Devon. Hills are unavoidable and are especially ever-present if you opt to do a trail run. My first race since February last year, I somehow found myself on the start-line thanks to the enthusiasm of my friend Abs . “It’s just 15.5 miles,” she said. Yes, I had just dragged myself through a hilly marathon but this was something else!

The upside was that I did train with Cath and Abs every weekend in the lead up. We all seemed to take turns in having a ‘rubbish run’, so there was always a solid amount of moaning going on and cathartic, childish puddle jumping. If you recall, I have always feared running with friends and still do at times, so this was all a bit brave for me. Cath and Abs are very supportive though…with equal sarcasm and love. In fact, I have not met an unsupportive runner; it’s just how I perceive my contribution to the group-run that makes me worry and wibble. While I hate to think I am holding people back, they always seem to genuinely appreciate the slower pace/walk/sit on a bench!

The training went well but the prep for race day at the end of May was not ideal thanks to a new puppy, husband being away and taking on a shift in the rugby club kitchen the night before. It was also a weird afternoon start time that was dictated by the tide, as the aim, and title of the event, was to Race The Tide at Mothecombe beach. Despite a large contingent of serious looking runners and a very hot day, the race started off well for me. There was forest cover and plenty of puddles, and we comfortably made the seven-mile cut-off to beat the tide.

At this point , we could have stumbled a few steps and completed the shorter route, but for some reason we had signed up for the ultra-half (not official title, but I going with it). It began with a steep uphill climb from the beach and out of the trees to the point that I was going so slowly that my Garmin watch thought I had stopped. How rude! From then on, it was steep hills up and down along the coast. Turns out I am not so hot at running down hills. My timid braking made my quads work even harder, so I was a tad wrecked. The views were beautiful but I was too busy trying to survive to care. Man, it was tough. Tougher than the marathon in my mind, but truly lovely to finish a race with my beloved ‘fast girls’ and get a pretty medal.

After that, I was at a bit of loss as to what to do with my running. I knew I could get through a half marathon, so going back to the beginning of a marathon programme felt a bit futile, so I swapped out runs for spin sessions on the bike in our shed and some online strength sessions, with the odd bit of Zumba thrown in, plus hill and speed runs.

I re-started marathon training with much trepidation in week seven of a 16-week plan. As a guide, my first long run was 12 miles. This went ok with a wet and windy one Eastbourne. The week after, however, was poor – it was one long enormous emotional hill! I really struggled through the 14 miles. Granted, it was not the easiest route, but when I still had two miles to make up in town as I returned from the coast, I really struggled to keep running. Fear had gripped my muscles and my mind. My heart wanted to go on but it felt broken. I made the distance, but it wasn’t pretty and made me doubt that I would ever achieve the 26.2 miles. I usually smile like a goon in all my running photos, but I was not smiling inside for this one.

I had to make some fast decisions. Backing out is not an option as I am running for a charity – Dementia UK – to support other people like my Dad. I decided to try to eat better and sleep more, and plan to give up drinking after the first weekend of September until after the Exeter Marathon in November. I also tweaked my pace down. I am no speed demon but even taking 15 more seconds per mile somehow makes each one seem more survivable. I am not competing – it’s a lonesome virtual marathon after all – I just need to complete the distance.

Last week’s training went better and I got to 16 miles without feeling ‘the fear’. I am on a re-load week this week, so only have nine miles to do this weekend, and then it’s back on it. The body seems to have accepted this is what we are doing now and is doing its best to support me. I just need to care for it too to get me through the next six weeks.

I would dearly love to run a marathon without the physical and emotional ups and downs, but it’s a tough distance and a real training commitment. It takes over your life a bit, which makes you feel a bit selfish, but if I can raise some money and make my Dad proud (assuming he is watching over me), then it will be all worthwhile. If you would like to show me your support, please feel free to add a comment below (they really do help) or if you can spare any pennies, you can sponsor me here: https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/CazMoore-runningfordad Thanks to everyone who has already sponsored me. The generosity of my friends and family never ceases to amaze me.

#runningfordad

Date: Friday, April 9, 2021

Distance: 26.22 miles

Listened to: Five Desert Island Discs episodes and Hamilton (again)

When I first started writing this blog, I never thought this would be where it would take me. My first goal was a 10k. Then I recklessly booked a half marathon. I have run three half marathon races since and have made it my aim to run a half marathon every month this year. The dream of a marathon was a dream. It was something other people do, not me.

My friend Rachel encouraged me to sign up for the Exeter Marathon due to take place on April 25. In her words-ish: “If you are doing well, then why not?” There is a chasm of difference between her “well” and mine, but if you don’t sign up you will never be compelled to try to go the extra mile or 13.

I began a training plan and I stuck to it. I ran in the dark, I ran in near snow, I went out when I did not want to…I just kept ticking the sessions off the list. I was halfway through when the Exeter Marathon was understandably postponed until November. I had done all that training in the cold months and had nowhere to go with it. I took the decision to keep going and attempt a DIY marathon locally.

The training continued to go well, until I ran my furthest ever distance 13 days ago. With 18 miles under my belt, I could see that a marathon was possible, although I knew it would be super tough. The next training week ended with a 20-mile run. I mean, why run 20 and not go the full distance? We (John has been my constant go-to for advice) brought the date forward to coincide with a week off work, when hopefully my legs would not suffer the ill effects of being stuffed under a desk all day.

Until this point, I had kept my marathon hopes largely to myself. I was very afraid that I would not make it. I did not even tell my mum (sorry, Mum). John and my girls knew, plus a group of local friends, but not until very recently. As a crew, we are very supportive of each other’s trials and tribulations. I could not cut them out of this one.

Today was marathon day and I did it. I completed the distance. It was hotter than expected, so it certainly wasn’t a breeze. I gave myself a 10-mile warm-up around town (it works for me psychologically!) before heading out into the hilly Devon countryside. It wasn’t an easy route, but there really isn’t an easy route in and around Kingsbridge unless you are willing to do shuttles of the stretch next to the estuary.

Before anyone gets cross with me for being negative, I think it is important to point out that it was tough. I began walking the hills earlier than I thought I would. I was grateful for any excuse to stop. By the time I had reached 19 miles, I was really hurting. My quads, my hip flexors and my feet were screaming…and I still had so far to go.

My route from 21 miles also took me up a steady climb that I was not keen on and by 24, I knew the end was in sight but my body was not keen on doing the 2.2 miles that needed to be done. That 0.2 becomes very important! I was also in full hill avoidance at the point so could not bear the thought of the incline past graveyard, which I run several times a week, to get home. I had to do loop-backs to make up some mileage on that stretch next to the estuary and for some reason that mentally broke me. Oh, and by 25 miles, I had a stitch too. Bonus!

BUT, there was no way I was not going to complete it. I would walk (which I did) if I had to; crawl even. I had 26.2 in my head and I was going to get there.

My dear friends supported me along the way (thank you my angels), popping up unexpectedly and expectedly. John was a my super-duper support crew with water bottles, sports drinks, cubes of cheese and general encouragement. He nipped home in between stations to put the washing on (he’s a keeper) and to collect the girls, so they could see me finish. He also had a medal made for me to mark the occasion…once I had stopped sobbing on a stone gatepost and then leaning on a bin for support. Classy, I know.

How do I feel now? I am too sore to be floating on air, but no blisters or chafing. I am super chuffed though. I was very proud to tell my mum and her husband Terry that I had done it. The perfectionist in me wishes that it could have felt easier, but there is time to try to work on that and maybe move to a flat place! I think I am a little in shock. It’s such a long way and feels like a journey that has taken more than three years not four hours and 40 minutes, plus wee, water and chat stops.

I did not forget what triggered this journey. I asked my Dad for help. I asked dear Tait for inspiration too. I also ran a few miles for my friend Fiona’s dad who died recently. I gave myself a proper out-load talking to at one point. These people are no longer with us, the least I could do was grind out a few more miles.

In case any of you are in doubt, I am still a slow runner, I did walk and I did have plenty of stops. I think this is important to reiterate. Plenty of people have taken up running in the last year and wish they looked like one of those gazelle-like runners that make it look so effortless. I do not find it effortless, but I have worked hard to find running 10 miles relatively comfortable at my speed. It has taken me 39 months to get to this point. I just stuck at it and I am proud of what I have achieved. I cannot believe I have done it.

#slowrunningisstillrunning

Date: Sunday, January 31, 2021

Distance: 2.27 miles

Listened to: My friend Cath

I had already committed to running at least four times a week for January until I glanced at an Instagram post from a friend. He wrote: “I am going to aim to run every single day in January…[blah, blah, blah – my words, not his]. Tempted to give it a try?” Damn you and thank you George! I did just that. George and his wife Rachel opted for at least 10k a day. I say at least because they chucked in a casual marathon in January too. They are amazing. I live in constant awe of their attitude and ability.

For my run every day or RED January journey, I settled for my usual four days of running plus at least two miles on the days in between. And I can honestly say it has been one of the most liberating things I have every done. Weirdly liberating in that you are tying yourself to a daily task, but the commitment to run very day means you just do it and your patient family give you leeway to do so. There were definitely times when I had had a busy day at work or it was really wet or windy or dark – or all three – or I would have rather have had a glass of wine, but the force of the date on the calendar made me go out again, again and again. It became a 31-day checklist exercise. I do like to tick something off!

It was tiring though and I guess the trick is to “run easy”. I hate using quote marks unnecessarily but in this instance it is because I have no idea what it means! Run easy to me is to not run at all! I am not skilled enough to have control over my pace. It is whatever it is when I go out the front door. A tough day working from home can slow me up by half a minute per mile while a good song can get me under the 10-minute mile mark, but that does not mean I know what an easy pace is.

Luckily, I had some inspiration along the way to keep me going. The inspiration began before January 1 though with Marissa’s birthday run (below left) that I shoe-horned into my lunch hour on my last working day before Christmas. Marissa is a brave soul on so many fronts and she compounded her awesomeness with regular, smiley and neat running in 2020. She continues to amaze me.

Three days later and I headed out for my first Christmas Day run to the sea followed by a quick dip. It was the first Christmas Day run (above right) for Abs, Cath and I. We (they) jumped in puddles, we walked the tougher hills and I faltered a bit at the end, but I enjoyed spending precious time with these fabulous women before the new lockdown rules came in. The memory of that run made me smile during my longest run in January.

December had been a wobbly month for me after the 100-mile tussle of November. I felt I had lost my mojo. I was exhausted and I was worrying about a foot niggle. I did not stop running but I halved my mileage for the month. Instead, I did more online strength and Zumba classes to give myself a break from the monotony of running and to get me physically stronger. John also worked out that too many planks and downward dogs were making my foot hurt, so I ditched yoga. By January 1, I was ready to go again.

By far my biggest inspiration was my friend Suzi (in purple below), who was tackling the Couch to 5k programme. When I offered to run with her, she was genuinely keen. When I was a new runner, the thought of running with someone else filled me with absolute gut-sickening fear. She just took it in her stride and it was an absolute pleasure to run with her. Her mental and physical toughness blew me away. She just kept going, no matter the gradient of the hill or distance ahead. Hills I would have pulled up on in the early days, and sometimes still do, Suzi just went up them. She showed me what can be possible if you do not panic and keep going. It was a real honour to witness her 5k moment (below right). As a consequence, I used the mantra of “Run like Suzi” to help me through tough times in my solo runs…and it worked! The blend of channelling my inner Suzi and the resilience I must have built up during the month, saw me run up hills I had previously baulked at. Thanks Suze.

Aside from RED January, my other running goals for 2021 were to run a half marathon and the Kingsbridge 10k route every month. A rare sunny day got me to the sea (below) and back for my half, including a jump in the Christmas Day puddles for Abs and Cath. A really rare sunny afternoon last week saw me do the 10k route. It’s still ghastly, by the way. At one point I thought I was hallucinating when I imagined I saw myself running down the hill towards me at 8k, but realised it was my daughter Maggie! I really thought I had lost my mind there for a brief second!

I completed RED January today (obviously) with a little run with Cath to get to 120 miles for the month. Aside from the satisfaction of ending on a round number, it represents the furthest I have ever run in a month. I am proud of myself. Not often I say that. I did not break down; I did not wobble. I just went out and did it…with the support of my family. The support of my friends was critical too and this blog is an ode to them. They put up with my text updates and always had words of encouragement. Abs, Cath, Lou, Rach, Marissa and Suze – you are totally brilliant and I love you very much. I won’t be rushing to run every day in February. I am looking forward to a few rest days, but feel this is a good foundation to build from.

Date: Sunday, November 30, 2020

Distance: 10 miles

Listened to: Entire Hamilton musical!

It has been my longest break since updating my blog and that is probably because I feel I have not had much to say. The summer months passed in blur with a knee niggle and aching hip bringing me up short but I still ran when I could. I kind of lost my temper with it all when I felt I had lost all the fitness I had built up in March and April, but stubbornly stuck at it.

Then I started to get foot pain too and I feared I had a stress fracture or reaction, but really did not want to go to a hospital in COVID times for a scan. My theory was that I could cope with pain as long as I knew I was not doing further damage to myself, so I cracked on.

Wise old runners will probably be guffawing into their their snoods right now. Did I really believe I could keep running without picking up the odd injury or two or at the very least not experiencing pain of some kind?

I think I was frustrated and anxious in equal measure. Frustrated that I felt my progress had been halted, anxious about COVID, frustrated I could not run to relieve my worries about COVID, anxious my injuries would not go away, and then the cycle starts all over again!

One highlight of July was re-running the Kingsbridge 10k, albeit on my own. A really tough course that does not fill anyone with joy but I was interested to see how much I had improved since taking it on two years previously. I still could not get under the hour mark but managed to take eight minutes off my previous time, so all good.

I wobbled though August and gave myself a talking to ahead of September. I signed up for a local 10k race for early 2021, telling myself that I would build back up slowly. Ha! I ran 75 miles in September with every right foot strike causing discomfort and a funky limp ensuing the day after each run.

I did not sign up for any challenges in October to give my foot a break, but still managed a 16km run for my cousin’s Tait to mark his 16th birthday and recorded my fastest 5km (27min 55 secs). I also did some group runs with friends (not something I am confident about), including that bloomin’ Kingsbridge 10k again! My utterly inspirational friend Marissa (peach top) wanted to be shown the route in all its sickening glory. So we showed her….see below 🙂

November started with a biggie. I had always wanted to do the ‘run to the sea’ route (Kingsbridge to Thurlestone) and agreed to go with two of my friends, Cath and Abs (turquoise and pink tops above), and somehow convinced them to run back too! It started my month off with an 11-miler, so signed up for another 75-mile challenge as England headed into another lockdown and shorter days. This meant another first. I bought a headtorch and flashing lights so I could run in the dark. That light certainly picks out the rats as you run past the estuary!

I easily reached 50 miles by the midway point so pushed my challenge to 100 miles…and then it got hard! Dark nights, lots of works and Mum-admin, general fatigue, and COVID disappointment made running hard again.

BUT. Big ‘but’ there. I am know I am guilty of not appreciating how far I have come. It’s good to have a look at your running app and remind yourself of the runs you have done sometimes. I ended up doing two half marathons in November. One was to remember Tait a year after his death and to honour a friend’s friend who had also passed away. The other was a solo ‘run to the sea’ that would have ended up being 12.5 miles by the time I got home so I had to crawl 0.6 more!

I’m still not back to the fitness I had built up at the start of the year but the old aches and pains have given up bugging me, but hopefully I can start to crack the hills I used to run again and see if I can extend my distances.

I have viewed the last few months as the ‘resilience building’ months. I think we have all had to build up mental resilience during 2020. It’s been totally rubbish to not to see or hug people who may not live with us but we love all the same. We have all felt very isolated at times. Nothing is normal.

I hope the extra miles will count at some point and that I have built some mental strength. I would consider myself a mentally strong person, but running is definitely an area I lack confidence, especially when I am with others, or just fail to find the will to carry on. The monthly challenges have definitely had a positive effect on the latter. My deadline mentality means I have never failed one of these challenges yet. I have certainly gone out when I did not want to and have gone further than I wanted to too.

Last thing. On one of my recent runs, I was listening to a podcast – Deep Roots – by adventurer and former rugby player Damian Browne. He talks about a very shaky moment on day one of his solo Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge. He asked himself three questions and he says his answers saved his race. They were:

1. What are you here to do? Row the Atlantic.

2. How do you do that? Well, you f**king row!

3. What good is another second, minute or day spent lamenting mistakes and misfortunes? None.

You will be relieved to hear that I am not not planning on rowing the Atlantic any time soon but this did resonate with me and these would be my questions:

1. What do you want to do? Run longer distances.

2. How do you do that? Keep running you fool!

3. What good is another second, minute or day spent lamenting that I am not as fast or fit as other people? None whatsoever.

I liked the brutal simplicity of these questions and I am taking them with me. If I want to run further, I need to keep running! Crazy concept. Thanks Damo. And thanks to the people who have been encouraging me along the way too, especially my family and my local girlfriends who I sent WhatsApp updates to during yesterday’s 10-miler to get me to 100 miles. I needed a virtual cheering squad and they never let me down.

I’m sure the support networks along with the mental and physical resilience, which we have all had to build up on the last nine months, will serve us well in the future. It is my dear hope that we all come out of the other side of COVID with the ability to be more awesome than we were before.

Date: Monday, June 8, 2020

Distance: 5 miles

Listened to: Tom Petty playlist (chilled and rocky at the same time – love him)

It’s been a while since my last post and so much has happened in the last two months. The last time I wrote, I had run 14 miles on Mother’s Day, I was aiming to run 26.2 cumulative miles every week throughout lockdown and I had a little ankle injury.

Good news first. The ankle injury moved on and I racked up six weeks in a row of 26.2 miles. Within that six-week period, I ran my furthest ever run of 16 miles I had an inkling of a plan and had planned a route the night before. With a positive attitude on board, I just went for it. Where I could have taken shortcuts and headed home early, I chose the longer route and kept going. I ran every step too, aside from brief pauses to take on water. I was elated.

Now the bad news. Just as the elation was sinking in, I toe-stubbed a rock jutting out of a wall and fell against it. I trundled onto a safer spot and realised my arm was bleeding quite badly. Some vigorous cleaning and plenty of butterfly strips later, I was relatively fixed. The family were amazing and put me back together so I could avoid the minor injuries unit. It was so frustrating. I was on a real high about my achievement, as I had recorded my a fastest half marathon in the process too, but my forearm mess made me feel silly.

I was forced to rest for a week to ensure I did not get an infection, which meant I had fresh legs for the following weekend. John suggested we got up early and do a casual walk-run in the opposite direction to my usual route. It started well until I realised the route resembled a visit to Happyland from the Mr Men books or Peppa Pig’s home town! The hills were laughingly mad but we ploughed on and realised that our halfway point actually took us to 12 miles! Oh good grief! We carried on towards home (we could not get there any other way) but at 16 miles my knee started to hurt – coincidentally we had also reached the highest point in the South Hams. The ‘hilariousness’ of the hills was beginning to wear thin and we were still far from home. The knee was utter agony every time I went down hill to the point of real-life, pathetic whimpering. Two miles and more downhills from home, I had to send John ahead for the car. I had done 21 miles and could do no more.

Whereas I should have felt chuffed with 21 miles, I did not get the satisfaction I got from my 16 miles. I had not run them all and I had felt wretched and pathetic at times over the last five miles. I was really unsatisfied and was not keen on being injured.

Meanwhile though, I received messages or saw updates on Facebook from old school and university friends who were returning to running or starting running with the Couch to 5K programme. It genuinely made me smile to see people outside and achieving their goals and some of them were kind of them to name me as one of their inspirations. I felt thoroughly humbled and delighted in equal measure. John has also casually cracked out his first marathon in 19 years, on the first time of trying, in the past few weeks and local friend Rachel continues to run a marathon a month. They are both awe-inspiring and I have nothing but admiration for them.

The arm heeled but the knee continued to niggle. I abandoned the cumulative weekly marathons and tried to take it easy and sought advice from my at-home physio expert as  I had to hold the knee together for one more goal. I had been due to travel to Ottawa to take part in a four-woman marathon relay to honour my cousin’s son Tait, who I have written about before on this blog site. COVID-19 meant I was clearly still in Kingsbridge on race day, so I took to my own streets instead for my quarter-marathon. My running app says I smashed my 10km, 5km, 1 mile and 1km times, but on closer inspection I do not think my location services was working properly but I know I ran faster and I did the distance.

The injury though persisted and my next run saw me pull up short and walk the sorry last mile home. My joy of running down hill had been stopped in its tracks and that made me sad.

Running had given me patience during lockdown, so I had to find inner resilience in other ways. Not easy. The trouble is the more stressed you get with work, COVID-19, strains on the kids, the number of people cramming onto the local beaches and missing hugs with extended family and friends, the more pressure you put on the run. Believe me, not a good idea. More treatment, strength exercises and a mind shift a week later, and I headed out tonight determined to run slow and easy. I wanted to get out but accepted it would not be pain-free as yet and that gave me the freedom to run somehow.

I have more work to do and I have not lost sight of my dreams of running further, but maybe not right now. Hopefully I have got years of running left in me to achieve those goals and maybe get a proper recording of those record times!

Life is up and down for everyone right now. I have much to be grateful for and remind myself of that several times a day. Right now, I feel grateful to have a job, a lovely family, fab, supportive friends, my health, of course, and to be running when I can. I also need to keep moving to keep a check on my snacking habit! Have eaten a lot of Cadbury’s Wholenut in recent weeks to celebrate my dear old Dad’s birthday on May 20th.

Just please stay safe everyone and a special shout out to Marissa, Kirstyn, Emma, Sue, Faye, Rebekah, Mel, Hayley, Kate and Glenn who have been superstar runners during lockdown. You’re all awesome.

#slowrunningisstillrunning #runningfordad #runningfortait

Date: Saturday, April 11, 2020

Distance: 8 miles

Listened to: Jack Johnson playlist (he’s basically music’s answer to yoga)

Never have I been more thankful to be able to run than I am now. With coronavirus spreading across the world, and the UK on lockdown, that once-a-day exercise allowance has become a very precious opportunity.

As a runner (I’ve said it twice now), I can generally go further in the same amount of time as people who are walking. This means I can go in search of natural beauty, peace and quiet, and truly lovely views. Lockdown has made me try out routes I have not run before. It has made me keep going up hills because I know what awaits me at the top. It has made me appreciate my surroundings: the spring flowers, the green leaves, the lambs and calves, the open skies, signs I have not found funny before, and so much more. I did appreciate them before but they mean so much more at this time and running has given me more regular access to them.

My new favourite takes me to the little village of Goveton and a footpath across the top of a field that gives me a gorgeous vista across the valley down towards Kingsbridge. It also means I get to run down from the top!

Now that I am working from home all the time, I thought I would set myself a little challenge. I am going to try to run the equivalent of a marathon every week while we are locked down. The first two weeks were empowering and made me feel free. This week was tough.

It started positively enough with eight miles on Monday evening. Wednesday’s run was a different story. It was so tough and my body and mind were definitely done by three miles. I was breathing hard, my legs were unbearably heavy and my ankle was hurting. It was the same again on Good Friday but I walked the hills and took multiple stops in the sun to battle on to 7.5 miles. I felt defeated and bemoaned the fact to my husband John.

He must be sick of my running moans and giving me advice that I seemingly ignore. I did listen however. This is what he said (in an abridged, non-educated form). My legs are heavy because I have trained hard. Two 26.2-mile weeks is a lot for me. He told me to enjoy the heavy legs as evidence of my hard work. He suggested a week of less miles so I can feel the benefit on my next long run. He told me to test the ankle and not to push it. I had a tiny fracture in that area when I was going through another stressful situation, so I did not wish for a repeat scenario.

As it happens, we both got up yesterday morning to run out to meet our friend Cath who was testing out an injured ankle after several weeks of rehab. My plan was to do a flat three-miler. I sent John ahead when I got to the first of the hills that defeated me earlier in the week. This hill is often an indicator of how a run will go for me. If I get up it, then I will do 90% of the hills for that run. If I don’t? Well, I am just grumpy and very hard on myself.

Once John had glided up the hill ahead of me and I had fired up Jack Johnson on my phone, I started my ascent. I made it to the top, so I thought I would see how far I could go. The Goveton view was calling me! (See below)

I pushed on to complete my 26.2 miles for the week and was chuffed. My runner’s high always comes after my runs and this one was particularly satisfying as I did not think I would make the distance this week.

As I turned my legs over, I thought back to John’s words. Although my legs were tired, I slowed down so I could keep going and I stopped to enjoy the views and take photos. I appreciated the run for what it was, what I had achieved and the opportunity to be outside in such beautiful surroundings.

I also contemplated my ankle. It was fine really. It hurt a bit when I got up on my toes, so I did not get up on my toes so much! I had been using those toes to help me run for longer on hills in the past few weeks, so it would make sense that they were feeling the strain. The last time I remember feeling pain here was when my Dad’s dementia had begun to ramp up, John was away with work and I was driving lots of miles to see friends with the girls. It felt like my ankle was where my stress was giving me a sharp poke.

Most of us will be feeling some stress at the moment. You may be missing family or friends, worrying about money, struggling to fill your days with something meaningful, anxious about getting to the shops, etc. Let’s face it, coronavirus is not fun! I was using running to make my stress go away and it definitely helps. However, when the high (or moan) is over, the reality of coronavirus is still there. It reminds me of the run I did after Dad’s funeral. I wanted the run to fix my grief. It couldn’t, of course. No run can bring back a beloved father, but it can help you (well, me at least) cope. I just need to make sure I do not rely on it to fix everything otherwise the pressure on the run becomes too much.

In other news:

1. I ran my longest ever run at the start of the coronavirus crisis. I whipped out a 14-miler on Mother’s Day just to stick two fingers up (sorry Mum) at the situation and to do something positive amid tough times.
2. I ensure I run as far away from people as possible, so my routes tend to snake to and fro across roads to make sure everyone has the space they need.
3. I have also seen people I love and like on my runs…and people I do not know at all. I give them a big wave and a smile. The world needs more waves and smiles right now.

#runningfordad #letsbeatcoronavirus #localadventures

Date: Tuesday, March 3, 2030

Distance: 7 miles

Listened to: Erasure playlist (don’t judge me – they were awesome)

This is my first blog of the year but I am going to focus on the last nine days. They have seen me complete my third half marathon, a return to running the lovely country roads where I live and an 11-mile outing in Bath.

At the start of the year, I was moaning about being ill. Soz! Once recovered, I got back on the training plan set for me by my husband John. It was a step up from the programme I did ahead of the Great West Half. I had started it before Christmas but the lurgy stopped me in my tracks. It involved both a long and a short run at the weekend, a longish run on the Tuesday, Zumba (can’t miss Zumba) on a Wednesday and a hill session on the treadmill on a Thursday.

Stand by for a positive comment about myself! The training went really well. I was really chuffed with myself. I did a 12-mile run in the South of France before Storms Ciara and Dennis set in so I was not worried about finishing off my training on the treadmill.

Big bowl of pasta on the eve of the Quicksilver Hampton Half Marathon and I was good to go. Then I could not sleep. Not helpful. But I still felt good. I had three friends running the same race. Abs, Cath and Emma. We split into two camps and all was well. I flew around the first six miles and ran my first outdoor 10km in under an hour. Goal – tick 🙂 Thanks Emma. I would not have done that without you.

Then, I had a wobble at seven miles, then I got a stitch at eight miles…then the wheels came off and I got grumpy. I was grumpy because I had to walk and I had trained so hard so I did not have to walk. Poor patient Emma. She suffered my grumpiness on full volume. Then I had to have a word with myself. On stopping for a selfie (any excuse to stop!) at the back of Hampton Court Palace, I saw Abs coming up behind us…without Cath. She also had a very sad face. Poor Cath had to pull out after 6.5 miles with an injury. At least I knew I could finish. I fumed over the next bridge and then dug deep with Emma putting up with my silence and scowling face.

It was an emotional end when we were reunited with Cath. It was not the way it was supposed to go. Tears were not supposed to be on the agenda. Running is emotional at times.

I ended up with a personal best race time of 2 hours 15 mins that was 11 minutes faster than the first time I did a half marathon – the other Hampton Court one – 11 months before. I should have been elated but I was disappointed. I really wanted to run it without walking or wanting to walk.

I just screwed up my pace (and probably needed some more sleep). When I ran in France, I managed a 9’53” min per mile pace and I was happy with that. The half was an average 10’02” pace but the splits are hilarious, ranging from 9’20” to 9’38” for the first eight miles to 10’28” to 11’05” for the last five. I said the wheels came off! I had run out of steam. I should have paced myself.

In the grand scheme of things, it really does not matter. It’s just a race. There will be other races, but I was cross with myself. Then I was cross with myself for being cross! Why do I run again?!

After a debrief in the car with Abs and Cath (with frozen peas on board) and a whiny rant with John, I pulled myself together. I ventured out for a run the Thursday after the race and loved the six miles I did on my home turf. It made me wonder if I should just bin races altogether.

I like the country roads, my earphones and my own space. At the weekend though, I ran in a city without earphones with my friend Lisa and did not have a hissy fit!

I am hoping it is a question of pace and not a question of races…especially as I have two more booked this year! I just wanted to feel that I could mentally and physically manage a half so I could have the confidence to push my distance a little further.

At least I finished the race though, when my lovely friend couldn’t. I am healthy and can run when others certainly cannot. I got a race PB for goodness sake plus achieved my 10km goal for the year. Lots to be grateful for and some room for improvement.

#runningfordad #runningfortait

Date: Wednesday, December 31, 2019

Distance: Too ill to run

Listened to: Myself coughing

You may have worked out that I am not a patient patient. I hate being stopped in my tracks. This had always been the case but it’s even more acute now that I am running. I did try a treadmill run yesterday and covered two miles, but not sure my lungs thanked me for it. There will be no running today. So I will write about running instead!

I have just read my blogs of 2019. Here are the headlines:

• 2 x half marathons
• 1 x night-walking marathon
• 3 x completing Cattery hill

I am chuffed with all of these and how far I had come. My goal at the end of 2018 was to run 10 miles and I have done that multiple times this year. I also started 2018 training for a 10km event and now regularly run that distance as part of my regular routine. Lord…I have a regular routine!

There has been a big shift in me in 2019. I started the year fearing the first half marathon I was going to run in March to ending it wanting to run further. Routine has given me physical and mental strength. 

I would attribute the change to four main factors (I love a bullet point!):

• Running in miles not kilometres
• Virtual races (that are measured in miles)
• Running when visiting other places
• Enlisting John’s help to set me and write me training programmes

Running miles has made me run further. I know I could do the conversion but once you are aiming for a half marathon, you are aiming for 13.1 miles. Why mess about with 21 kilometres? I just want to keep it simple and aim for the distance I need to achieve.

The virtual races are in miles too. These have forced me out when I have not wanted to. In my last blog, I wrote about aiming for 100 miles to honour my cousin’s son Tait. I did it. It was a self-imposed target I needed to achieve and a precious medal to remember an utter legend of a boy.

Clocking up the miles means running when you may not have normally run, e.g. a romantic weekend away to Venice! However, running is actually a very efficient way to do some sightseeing! Our 15 miles in Venice made sure we nailed all the major sights before most people were up. I have popped my training gear in my bag for all my trips away this year and it is always nice to run somewhere different: Eastbourne, Lichfield, Birmingham, Bakewell, Brixham, Swansea… and Lake Garda – crazy mix!

I have also trusted John’s advice. I am fortunate to have a physiotherapist with a wealth of sports knowledge at my side, who knows me and my fragile ego. He ran/walked every step with me for my first half and set my programme to train me for my second. He upped my game to four runs a week and has tweaked that programme since to make me stronger. He types it up, sticks on the fridge and I just do it. I plan my route to get the miles I need, but other than that, it has become a tick exercise. He has also given me the time to run. With us both wanting to train on top of our jobs and seeing the girls, time can be tough to negotiate, but he has always been very generous with supporting my running endeavours.

John’s training plan and my friend Lisa’s support, at the start line and in the lead up, meant I enjoyed my second half marathon more than the first. I took three minutes off my first half marathon time on a hillier course. I did not get a stomach ache afterwards and was not stiff the next day. John achieved a PB too!

I was a little bewildered as to what to tackle after October’s race so repeated my half marathon plan with some hill runs added in on the treadmill. This phase coincided with my original plan to do 75 miles in November, which I consequently upped to 100 after Tait passed away. Tait’s inspiration and the new training regime saw me run up hills I had not conquered before. It gave me a new determination to just get the distance done. When it came to ‘race day’, I ran 13.1 miles on my own around the South Hams’ hilly country roads in 2 hours 13 mins to take eight minutes off my last half marathon time, and that included some walking on Cattery. I was elated, not just with the distance but that at no point did I want to just stop. I had found some mental fortitude and confidence in my ability.

John then set me a new four-week plan to run three sessions a week, covering the same kind of mileage as when I was running four, but added in some different exercise – I chose spin – before starting another half marathon training schedule in the new year. I wanted to see if I could run further than 13.1 miles too. One six-miler, 11 hilly miles to Salcombe and a spin class later…and the lurgy set in. Pah! I hate being ill and as an asthmatic, I need to look after my lungs. I just want the coughing and sore chest to go away now, so I can get my trainers back on.

The four-week plan has not gone to plan but there are still goals for 2020. I am booked up for two half marathons in February (with Cath, Abs and Emma) and June (with John). Hoping to do another one with Lisa too. I will also form run two legs (equalling a half marathon) of a relay marathon team to honour Tait when I visit Ottawa in May. Will hopefully add a few more medals to Pooh’s neck!

I still have not officially nailed that sub-hour 10km (the only time I revert to kilometres) and I would like to run further, but progress has definitely been made in 2019. Thanks to everyone who has helped me along the way in 2019, especially to my girls, Ella and Maggie. They always ask me how far I have run when I appear red-faced and sweaty through the door, and then heap love and praise on me. It means a lot.

#runningfordad #runningfortait #runningforme