I've been feeling a bit down today. Think of Eeyore... just a bit blue. Nothing specific; the children are getting scratchy now we are heading towards the end of the summer holidays. I'm not looking forward to them going back to school, nor am I looking to Husband going back to work and putting in 50+ hours each and every week.
My planned run today was a tempo run. This meant 5 minutes warming up, 20 minutes running at full speed, then 5 minutes cool down. I went to see The Boss this week to celebrate my sub 60 minute 10k (I even got a well done - high praise indeed!) and he altered the plan to run 30 minutes steady.
I have a very dear friend who is a fitty. She seems to have forever had a good level of fitness and could turn out a 20 minute run without so much of a bead of sweat. I tried running with her and another fitty friend last summer but they demolished me and I couldn't run through the knee pain I had at the time.
When I started the Couch to 5k 6 months ago, we ran together. Well, I say ran.... What I mean is that I puffed and panted for the planned 2 minute jog and then tried to talk during the 3 minute walk! I loved spending time with her and chatting, but I was also a bit embarrassed that I was so desperately unfit. The 20 minute session was a mere warm up for her, but she was full of encouragement and praise which was so kind.
We ran together a few weeks ago. I wanted to be pushed, I wanted to do my best so I asked her to give me a hard time, and to run at her normal pace. I will never, ever forget how hard that run was. I was so determined and I didn't quit, but I thought my body might give up before my brain did! Again she was full of encouragement, telling me how well I was doing and to keep going, when all I could say was "Oh my God" as I desperately gasped the next breath. As I laid on her lounge floor, not sure if the white light ahead of me was the Pearly Gates or just hyperventilating, I told her that I loved her and hated her in equal amounts...
So, who better to run with for a mid-week tempo run? Yes, you've got it - my super fit, fast paced friend! I jogged down to her house to meet and set off from there. As soon as we started, I commented that I'd forgotten how fast her pace was. She is incredibly light on her feet too, which I am a little jealous of as I heel-strike hard. Actually, I think I run like a baby elephant!
The negative thoughts hit me hard, and very soon into the run. The 'I can't do this, This is too hard, This is too fast, I can't maintain this pace, I'm crap' train of thought ran through my mind, bulldozing any belief I had in myself. We were running fast, so covered quite a distance in a short amount of time. She must've read my mind, because she was as always reassuring and encouraging and being able to chat helped allay my fears.
The rest of the run went well. I kept a check on the pace we were running at on my trusty Garmin, and took confidence from my friend, knowing that I was keeping up, knowing that I wasn't working so hard that I couldn't speak and that I couldn't have done this on the infamous "I'm dying" run. We tackled the big hill that I've only been able to get up once before, and for the first time we were both silent and focussed on digging in so we could get to the top without breaking pace.
Coming downhill again was surprisingly difficult. It was hard to maintain a good pace without flying off and risking life and limb on the undulating paving slabs. We finished off with a little sprint to her house, and a cheer as we reached the end of the run.
Running with someone much fitter is a daunting task. I have always referred to her as my 'fast-paced friend', but something clicked tonight. It isn't just my friend who is fast. It is me too.
Thursday 28 August 2014
Tuesday 26 August 2014
Buggy running
I wish I had taken a photo of today's run.
My youngest, aged 2, loves running. She often grabs my running belt, shouts "Steady, Go!" and off she goes, just like Mummy.
As the end of the summer approaches, I've been thinking about how I am going to fit in my marathon training runs over the winter. During the week I can only get out to run once Husband is home from work to look after the girls, and this will involve late evening, dark runs. I am not keen on running alone in the dark, personal safety is a must.
I've been watching several running specific buggies on eBay for a while now. I had attempted a run with my ancient Phil & Teds a while ago, but it was heavy and difficult so I hadn't tried again. All of the joggers I have been watching were selling for around £150 in various used conditions, and not only was this an amount I couldn't afford, it was too much of a risk to spend on something I might not use and then not be able to redeem if I re-sell.
Over the weekend, I had an email reminder that one of the joggers I was watching on eBay was soon finishing. I had the time, so I logged on expecting the same to happen as usual - a couple of early bids taking the buggy to the £50 mark but they have all soared in the dying seconds of the auction. The auction hit the last two minutes, and nothing was happening. No other bids - very unusual for this type of buggy. Trying not to get too excited, I entered my maximum bid, still well below the other auctions I'd watched, and waited for the countdown to hit 5 seconds. Still no other bids. Needless to say, I won the auction and bought the buggy for a bargain £77.
Luckily the seller was quick to answer my email requesting collection, and being a Bank Holiday he was home the following day. I could barely contain my excitement!
Of course, being a Bank Holiday in England it had to rain. And rain. And rain. But as soon as there was a break in the weather, I was out for my planned 35 minute session. This time when B said "Mummy run. Me? Run?" I could say yes. She eagerly hopped into the buggy - I'd love to say and off we went all jolly but the reality is that we had to fiddle with quick release wheels, straps and fixings before we could finally get going.
Running with a buggy is different to normal. My whole body position was different and took a little getting used to. I'm not one to stop running once I start, but straps needed adjusting, B needed a drink and so it took a little longer than usual to find my rhythm. Once we were going, B delighted at the speed we were travelling at. The new buggy is much, much lighter than anything else I've owned and I felt like I was gripping the handle too tightly - I didn't quite trust it not to tip. The fixed front wheel is also something I'm not used to. All of my pushchairs / prams have had swivel front wheels that I only lock to rock babies off to sleep. Turning corners was therefore a bit of a challenge, and I could feel the strain in my upper arms and shoulder. My hands were too hot on the foam handle, but other than that I was pleasantly surprised. I chatted a bit with B who was loving the wheels splashing through the puddles, and her little squeals of laughter made me smile and I relaxed into the run.
I got a mixture of reactions from people who saw me. Some smiled, others gawped and shook their head, and several people need to learn how to share a footpath. I am going to invest in a loud bicycle bell to warn other pedestrians as I approach them, that way if I swipe them at least I can say I warned you! The Manager's (yes, that's you darling husband!) next task is to buy and install the bell, remove the old foam handle and replace that with something user friendly and he did promise he would clean the dog poo off the wheel for me...
I was pleased, and surprised to be able to run for 3.5miles in 36 minutes with a two year old in a buggy. This isn't dissimilar timing to the end of the Couch to 5k programme. Who knows, with practice B and I could be sub-60 10k runners together!
My youngest, aged 2, loves running. She often grabs my running belt, shouts "Steady, Go!" and off she goes, just like Mummy.
As the end of the summer approaches, I've been thinking about how I am going to fit in my marathon training runs over the winter. During the week I can only get out to run once Husband is home from work to look after the girls, and this will involve late evening, dark runs. I am not keen on running alone in the dark, personal safety is a must.
I've been watching several running specific buggies on eBay for a while now. I had attempted a run with my ancient Phil & Teds a while ago, but it was heavy and difficult so I hadn't tried again. All of the joggers I have been watching were selling for around £150 in various used conditions, and not only was this an amount I couldn't afford, it was too much of a risk to spend on something I might not use and then not be able to redeem if I re-sell.
Over the weekend, I had an email reminder that one of the joggers I was watching on eBay was soon finishing. I had the time, so I logged on expecting the same to happen as usual - a couple of early bids taking the buggy to the £50 mark but they have all soared in the dying seconds of the auction. The auction hit the last two minutes, and nothing was happening. No other bids - very unusual for this type of buggy. Trying not to get too excited, I entered my maximum bid, still well below the other auctions I'd watched, and waited for the countdown to hit 5 seconds. Still no other bids. Needless to say, I won the auction and bought the buggy for a bargain £77.
Luckily the seller was quick to answer my email requesting collection, and being a Bank Holiday he was home the following day. I could barely contain my excitement!
Of course, being a Bank Holiday in England it had to rain. And rain. And rain. But as soon as there was a break in the weather, I was out for my planned 35 minute session. This time when B said "Mummy run. Me? Run?" I could say yes. She eagerly hopped into the buggy - I'd love to say and off we went all jolly but the reality is that we had to fiddle with quick release wheels, straps and fixings before we could finally get going.
Running with a buggy is different to normal. My whole body position was different and took a little getting used to. I'm not one to stop running once I start, but straps needed adjusting, B needed a drink and so it took a little longer than usual to find my rhythm. Once we were going, B delighted at the speed we were travelling at. The new buggy is much, much lighter than anything else I've owned and I felt like I was gripping the handle too tightly - I didn't quite trust it not to tip. The fixed front wheel is also something I'm not used to. All of my pushchairs / prams have had swivel front wheels that I only lock to rock babies off to sleep. Turning corners was therefore a bit of a challenge, and I could feel the strain in my upper arms and shoulder. My hands were too hot on the foam handle, but other than that I was pleasantly surprised. I chatted a bit with B who was loving the wheels splashing through the puddles, and her little squeals of laughter made me smile and I relaxed into the run.
I got a mixture of reactions from people who saw me. Some smiled, others gawped and shook their head, and several people need to learn how to share a footpath. I am going to invest in a loud bicycle bell to warn other pedestrians as I approach them, that way if I swipe them at least I can say I warned you! The Manager's (yes, that's you darling husband!) next task is to buy and install the bell, remove the old foam handle and replace that with something user friendly and he did promise he would clean the dog poo off the wheel for me...
I was pleased, and surprised to be able to run for 3.5miles in 36 minutes with a two year old in a buggy. This isn't dissimilar timing to the end of the Couch to 5k programme. Who knows, with practice B and I could be sub-60 10k runners together!
A PB and a strange encounter with a man dressed in green.
Sunday was spent celebrating a very special eight year old's birthday. Her party involved consuming vast quatities of food and home made banoffee pie. I may be on the petite side, but I can pack away a fair amount of that banoffee pie.... Mmmmmm!
I had an hour's run planned for Sunday. I'm not a morning runner, all of my morning runs have been incredibly tough. This may be something to do with me generally being an absolute grumpy cowbag first thing in the morning. My family know to ignore me until I have had caffeine and carbs administered. It is a real shame that I'm not a morning person, because there is something beautiful about the lightness of the morning air, and the sun just peeking up promising a good day ahead.
After much deliberation, my running kit was thrown in the car so that I could run home from my friend's house. In mileage, they don't live too far away. But our homes are separated by a stretch of notoriously busy road which is the bane of my life. A 6 mile, 12 minute journey can often take upwards of 45 minutes on a bad day. Although the birthday party was great fun, the prospect of running home loomed over me. A couple of things were bothering me. I have only recently 'graduated' from running in full length, body concealing clothing to shorts and a vest top and presenting myself in proper runners kit to my closest friends was daunting.
The biggest issue I had was running from one town to another. This is another journey that I would never consider NOT taking the car for, and suddenly I am contemplating running it. I don't think for one moment that one person at the party doubted my ability to at least give it a go, or even gave it that much thought, but what they think of me matters. My husband had been his ever supportive self (read he nagged me a lot) and reminded me that I could do this. I set off with the well wishes of people who mean as much to me as my own family, and with a hopeful 9:20 minute per mile pace I start making my way home.
My family passed me in the car, with encouraging cheers from the girls, another reminder of why I am doing this. It isn't just about me, or getting fit, or running for fun. It is about fundraising for GOSH, it is about determination and being a good role model to four growing girls. They will never know how much their support lifts me and carries me through the most negative, dark thoughts while I am running through the feelings of 'I can't do this'.
I was worried in the first mile that I had set off too fast. Race for Life was a brutal lesson in pacing myself. I was already running at just under my best 5k pace, and it entered my thoughts that I wouldn't be able to maintain the pace. I hung back a bit, tried to slow down, but with another runner approaching me I subconsciously picked up my pace again.
As I neared the notorious traffic lights which seem to delay my usual car journey home by a lifetime, I had a little chuckle to myself as I had definitely just completed that distance in a better speed than I can drive it on a Friday afternoon. That felt good. Still aware of my reasonably-fast pace, I carried on going feeling really positive. Another runner approaching me, and again I subconsciously picked up my pace. Although I am slightly uncomfortable at this pace, I knew I was OK and could carry on. Stopping to cross the road was irritating, and I impatiently jiggled while waiting for a gap in the traffic to get over.
At the next junction, I have two ways to go home. Whichever way I choose will involve a hill at some point, going one way is shorter in distance but the long hill is there straight away and will inevitably slow me down. I am not ready to slow so I select the flatter route for now. Another runner, another pace increase. Something is working well, and I have an unfamiliar confidence in myself.
As the hill home approaches, I feel the pull of the incline and feel myself slowing, and my breathing getting harder. I remember these times at school, running in to the finish feeling like I couldn't take another step, but still managing a smile for the PE Teacher. I give myself a stern talking to and dig deep.
My road is soon there and I checked my watch; I am just short of 6 miles. There is no way I am stopping now, and I get an inkling that I am probably going to be running 10k faster than I did in London. I get back on to the flat, find a bit more strength and picked up the pace again. The flat path is a relief after a long, shallow incline and I knew I was doing well. I've got more so I push harder and pick up the pace again. I let my legs break into almost a sprint and watch the last of the 10k disappear. As soon as my Garmin hit the 10k I stopped, eager to know my time.
58minutes 09seconds.
The stats flash up one by one: Fastest 10k. Fastest 5k. Fastest mile 8:26. Longest run 6.22.
My heart was thudding with excitement, and I needed to catch my breath before I jogged home. Looking at my watch in amazement, I dropped down into a crouch to compose myself.
I was vaguely aware of the vehicles around me, one passing close by and parking. I hear a voice "You alright love?" accompanied by the chirrup of a short siren. I looked up at the ambulance crew beside me, then around me wondering who on earth they were talking to. "Are you ok?" I realise it is me. I probably do look a bit of a sight to be honest, and now I am not only red with exertion but red with embarrassment, too. I reassured the friendly crew that I am fine, yes thanks and no, I don't need oxygen.
With a giggle and a wave, I am off and running again to complete 7.32 miles in 1:11.11 and to start the celebrations all over again.
I had an hour's run planned for Sunday. I'm not a morning runner, all of my morning runs have been incredibly tough. This may be something to do with me generally being an absolute grumpy cowbag first thing in the morning. My family know to ignore me until I have had caffeine and carbs administered. It is a real shame that I'm not a morning person, because there is something beautiful about the lightness of the morning air, and the sun just peeking up promising a good day ahead.
After much deliberation, my running kit was thrown in the car so that I could run home from my friend's house. In mileage, they don't live too far away. But our homes are separated by a stretch of notoriously busy road which is the bane of my life. A 6 mile, 12 minute journey can often take upwards of 45 minutes on a bad day. Although the birthday party was great fun, the prospect of running home loomed over me. A couple of things were bothering me. I have only recently 'graduated' from running in full length, body concealing clothing to shorts and a vest top and presenting myself in proper runners kit to my closest friends was daunting.
The biggest issue I had was running from one town to another. This is another journey that I would never consider NOT taking the car for, and suddenly I am contemplating running it. I don't think for one moment that one person at the party doubted my ability to at least give it a go, or even gave it that much thought, but what they think of me matters. My husband had been his ever supportive self (read he nagged me a lot) and reminded me that I could do this. I set off with the well wishes of people who mean as much to me as my own family, and with a hopeful 9:20 minute per mile pace I start making my way home.
My family passed me in the car, with encouraging cheers from the girls, another reminder of why I am doing this. It isn't just about me, or getting fit, or running for fun. It is about fundraising for GOSH, it is about determination and being a good role model to four growing girls. They will never know how much their support lifts me and carries me through the most negative, dark thoughts while I am running through the feelings of 'I can't do this'.
I was worried in the first mile that I had set off too fast. Race for Life was a brutal lesson in pacing myself. I was already running at just under my best 5k pace, and it entered my thoughts that I wouldn't be able to maintain the pace. I hung back a bit, tried to slow down, but with another runner approaching me I subconsciously picked up my pace again.
As I neared the notorious traffic lights which seem to delay my usual car journey home by a lifetime, I had a little chuckle to myself as I had definitely just completed that distance in a better speed than I can drive it on a Friday afternoon. That felt good. Still aware of my reasonably-fast pace, I carried on going feeling really positive. Another runner approaching me, and again I subconsciously picked up my pace. Although I am slightly uncomfortable at this pace, I knew I was OK and could carry on. Stopping to cross the road was irritating, and I impatiently jiggled while waiting for a gap in the traffic to get over.
At the next junction, I have two ways to go home. Whichever way I choose will involve a hill at some point, going one way is shorter in distance but the long hill is there straight away and will inevitably slow me down. I am not ready to slow so I select the flatter route for now. Another runner, another pace increase. Something is working well, and I have an unfamiliar confidence in myself.
As the hill home approaches, I feel the pull of the incline and feel myself slowing, and my breathing getting harder. I remember these times at school, running in to the finish feeling like I couldn't take another step, but still managing a smile for the PE Teacher. I give myself a stern talking to and dig deep.
My road is soon there and I checked my watch; I am just short of 6 miles. There is no way I am stopping now, and I get an inkling that I am probably going to be running 10k faster than I did in London. I get back on to the flat, find a bit more strength and picked up the pace again. The flat path is a relief after a long, shallow incline and I knew I was doing well. I've got more so I push harder and pick up the pace again. I let my legs break into almost a sprint and watch the last of the 10k disappear. As soon as my Garmin hit the 10k I stopped, eager to know my time.
58minutes 09seconds.
The stats flash up one by one: Fastest 10k. Fastest 5k. Fastest mile 8:26. Longest run 6.22.
My heart was thudding with excitement, and I needed to catch my breath before I jogged home. Looking at my watch in amazement, I dropped down into a crouch to compose myself.
I was vaguely aware of the vehicles around me, one passing close by and parking. I hear a voice "You alright love?" accompanied by the chirrup of a short siren. I looked up at the ambulance crew beside me, then around me wondering who on earth they were talking to. "Are you ok?" I realise it is me. I probably do look a bit of a sight to be honest, and now I am not only red with exertion but red with embarrassment, too. I reassured the friendly crew that I am fine, yes thanks and no, I don't need oxygen.
With a giggle and a wave, I am off and running again to complete 7.32 miles in 1:11.11 and to start the celebrations all over again.
Sometimes the going just seems too tough.
This is one of my favourite and also the worst weeks of August.
Number 2 daughter (R) has a birthday near the end of the summer holidays. In the same week we celebrate Daddy's birthday, my closest friend's daughter's and husband's birthday. I love this week for its happiness, parties and cake. I hate it because it means the summer holidays are almost over, and that brings back the school run, organising after school clubs, endless lunch boxes and husband's long working hours. I hate being apart from them, from my husband, and the empty nest they leave.
R decided this year that she didn't want a birthday party, but a sleepover instead. I agreed, she made the invitations and gave them out. Before I knew it, I had a gaggle (or a giggle?) of girls eagerly anticipating entertainment, nail polishing, pizza and general party fun. Fast forward 11 or so hours and I am in a state of collapse on the sofa, completely exhausted and definitely not feeling the love for dragging myself out for a 30 minute run.
I even sent a text to The Boss (as my coach is affectionately known) asking how to jiggle the time and that I might miss my planned session. His concern was my well-being, which was kind, but in my heart I knew I had to get out and keep going. The marathon training is going to test my commitment, endurance and willingness to keep on keeping on, so feeling tired can be no excuse.
My eldest daughter has been asking to come out for a while, so I took the opportunity to spend some time with her. Within 0.06 seconds of me asking her if she'd like to go for a run with me, she was changed and at the door with trainers on. What more motivation did I need than a beaming 10 year old, champing at the bit to go out with Mummy?!
C proudly ran a full mile with me, and then got the giggles because of her jelly legs and so we walked. The walk home was fantastic. We held hands and chatted uninterrupted all the way. She is so full of life and spirit, and even though the run wasn't as planned, it was just what I needed. So, even though that day the going seemed too tough to keep going, I learnt that going back to basics and getting out is more than enough. I was just lucky to share it with a very, very, charming running buddy.
Number 2 daughter (R) has a birthday near the end of the summer holidays. In the same week we celebrate Daddy's birthday, my closest friend's daughter's and husband's birthday. I love this week for its happiness, parties and cake. I hate it because it means the summer holidays are almost over, and that brings back the school run, organising after school clubs, endless lunch boxes and husband's long working hours. I hate being apart from them, from my husband, and the empty nest they leave.
R decided this year that she didn't want a birthday party, but a sleepover instead. I agreed, she made the invitations and gave them out. Before I knew it, I had a gaggle (or a giggle?) of girls eagerly anticipating entertainment, nail polishing, pizza and general party fun. Fast forward 11 or so hours and I am in a state of collapse on the sofa, completely exhausted and definitely not feeling the love for dragging myself out for a 30 minute run.
I even sent a text to The Boss (as my coach is affectionately known) asking how to jiggle the time and that I might miss my planned session. His concern was my well-being, which was kind, but in my heart I knew I had to get out and keep going. The marathon training is going to test my commitment, endurance and willingness to keep on keeping on, so feeling tired can be no excuse.
My eldest daughter has been asking to come out for a while, so I took the opportunity to spend some time with her. Within 0.06 seconds of me asking her if she'd like to go for a run with me, she was changed and at the door with trainers on. What more motivation did I need than a beaming 10 year old, champing at the bit to go out with Mummy?!
C proudly ran a full mile with me, and then got the giggles because of her jelly legs and so we walked. The walk home was fantastic. We held hands and chatted uninterrupted all the way. She is so full of life and spirit, and even though the run wasn't as planned, it was just what I needed. So, even though that day the going seemed too tough to keep going, I learnt that going back to basics and getting out is more than enough. I was just lucky to share it with a very, very, charming running buddy.
Tuesday 19 August 2014
Sounds like a plan, Batman
Before I ran Race for Life and the 10k in London, I already had a long term goal planned and I had registered for two runs in Brighton. A half marathon in February and the full on 26.2 miles in April. I know several people who have taken on the marathon, so I knew that the training alone was a huge commitment, not just turning up on the day and running. At the beginning, I could never have imagined that I would have achieved a great level of fitness and stamina so quickly and registered for the Chestnut Tree House 10k thinking that I might just be able to do it come September.
I had been sensible and had my gait analysis done and had been fitted for proper running shoes, and was more than happy with my Brooks Ghosts. I had managed to run through early knee pains and niggles, and I was overjoyed that the knee pain had totally gone.
One of my husband's friends had recommended a local independent running shop if I needed any help or advice. I'm not sure why but I was really nervous about going in there, for any reason. I think it was fear of setting foot into a place where I didn't belong; in places like Sports Direct it was easy to hide amongst the tonnes of cheap sportswear, but in a 'proper' run shop I was sure that they would discover that I was a fraud!!
We did go in, and I was so wrong about the reception. Like the many runners I have come across as I have been out and about, the welcome was warm. Running is not an elite club. I have had more friendly smiles, nods and words of encouragement from other people out running than I could have hoped for. The manager of the store and I had a good chat, and he invited me back into the shop along with my running shoes and my training plan if I wanted any pointers. I think he described me to our mutual friend as 'that one with the million children following her'.
As I had outrun the C25K app and I was a bit unsure of what was next, I sent G an email asking if it was OK to go in for that chat; I couldn't find a training plan online that suited me and I needed help to safely train for the distances I had planned. The nerves about going in to see G were still there; his reputation as a runner and a coach are incredible and I was very aware of my novice status.
I really believe that the right people come into your life at the right time, and I am so glad that I ignored my nerves and went back to the shop. I was hopeful that G would share some of his experience and wisdom with me, and with another warm welcome he didn't disappoint. He did annoy me though as he frowned at my beloved Ghosts and told me they were too small... I chose to ignore him until I ran the 10k with a sore toe! He helped me through a weird ankle injury - who knew resting was so frustrating! - and he has continued to offer guidance and support as I plan the 100 Mile Challenge. G is also encouraging me to improve my 10k time and think about coming in under 60 minutes. I think he has more faith in me than I do, and I'd love to achieve a great time to reward the time he has spent coaching me, but we'll have to see what race day brings.
So, with the support of my family, words of encouragement from my running buddy and with "The Boss'" giving his usual quiet nod of approval, I hatched the plan to extend the Brighton plan to something a bit different. My running buddy had managed to convince me that running the Great South Run (10 Miles) in October was a good idea, and I had entered. Fundraising for the 10k alerted me to the generous, but slightly small audience I have to keep asking for sponsorship. I emailed the GOSH fundraising team, and they were more than happy for me to fundraise for all running events as one.
The Great South gives me a great beginning and end point for my challenge. The course is in Portsmouth, which is one of my favourite places to spend a day with my family. I enjoy shopping there too, and it holds many happy memories. The prospect of being one of 25,000 runners is slightly scary, but I am also looking forward to the atmosphere and spotting my support team in the crowds. I am not running this one for a time goal, but to enjoy and begin a challenge which I can only hope will raise plenty of pennies for GOSH.
Just in case you needed reminding (as if!) most, if not all, of my sponsorship is on JustGiving :)
I had been sensible and had my gait analysis done and had been fitted for proper running shoes, and was more than happy with my Brooks Ghosts. I had managed to run through early knee pains and niggles, and I was overjoyed that the knee pain had totally gone.
One of my husband's friends had recommended a local independent running shop if I needed any help or advice. I'm not sure why but I was really nervous about going in there, for any reason. I think it was fear of setting foot into a place where I didn't belong; in places like Sports Direct it was easy to hide amongst the tonnes of cheap sportswear, but in a 'proper' run shop I was sure that they would discover that I was a fraud!!
We did go in, and I was so wrong about the reception. Like the many runners I have come across as I have been out and about, the welcome was warm. Running is not an elite club. I have had more friendly smiles, nods and words of encouragement from other people out running than I could have hoped for. The manager of the store and I had a good chat, and he invited me back into the shop along with my running shoes and my training plan if I wanted any pointers. I think he described me to our mutual friend as 'that one with the million children following her'.
As I had outrun the C25K app and I was a bit unsure of what was next, I sent G an email asking if it was OK to go in for that chat; I couldn't find a training plan online that suited me and I needed help to safely train for the distances I had planned. The nerves about going in to see G were still there; his reputation as a runner and a coach are incredible and I was very aware of my novice status.
I really believe that the right people come into your life at the right time, and I am so glad that I ignored my nerves and went back to the shop. I was hopeful that G would share some of his experience and wisdom with me, and with another warm welcome he didn't disappoint. He did annoy me though as he frowned at my beloved Ghosts and told me they were too small... I chose to ignore him until I ran the 10k with a sore toe! He helped me through a weird ankle injury - who knew resting was so frustrating! - and he has continued to offer guidance and support as I plan the 100 Mile Challenge. G is also encouraging me to improve my 10k time and think about coming in under 60 minutes. I think he has more faith in me than I do, and I'd love to achieve a great time to reward the time he has spent coaching me, but we'll have to see what race day brings.
So, with the support of my family, words of encouragement from my running buddy and with "The Boss'" giving his usual quiet nod of approval, I hatched the plan to extend the Brighton plan to something a bit different. My running buddy had managed to convince me that running the Great South Run (10 Miles) in October was a good idea, and I had entered. Fundraising for the 10k alerted me to the generous, but slightly small audience I have to keep asking for sponsorship. I emailed the GOSH fundraising team, and they were more than happy for me to fundraise for all running events as one.
The Great South gives me a great beginning and end point for my challenge. The course is in Portsmouth, which is one of my favourite places to spend a day with my family. I enjoy shopping there too, and it holds many happy memories. The prospect of being one of 25,000 runners is slightly scary, but I am also looking forward to the atmosphere and spotting my support team in the crowds. I am not running this one for a time goal, but to enjoy and begin a challenge which I can only hope will raise plenty of pennies for GOSH.
Just in case you needed reminding (as if!) most, if not all, of my sponsorship is on JustGiving :)
Monday 18 August 2014
A little about me, the beginning of running, Race for Life and a 10k in London. Eh? Who mentioned a 10k?!
Once upon a time, four friends sat in a garden discussing running. One of them had just recently run a marathon, one of them was in awe and the other two were drinking beer.
Well, the story went something along those lines, but it was that conversation which led to me putting on my running kit and giving it a go.
In my previous life as a school girl, I was a runner. I was good at sprinting and represented my school in a couple of 100m and 4x100m relay races. I was forced to run cross country and distance, but I didn't enjoy that as much as feeling full of power and running FAST! I was quite good at hurdles, and was scouted by a local hockey first team but I suffered a knee injury in Year 10 and despite painful physio, my sporty days came to an end.
During my pregnancy with E, I had severe SPD which carried on for a couple of years after giving birth. I was on crutches in the last trimester, and stubbornly refused the physio's advice to use a wheelchair.Several rounds of physio did no more than aggravate the symptoms, Chronic Pain Clinic scared the bejeezus out of me and I just could not accept that I would never move properly or be pain-free ever again. Luckily for me my closest friend's husband recommended an osteopath and he was an absolute miracle worker. I hobbled into his clinic room and walked out! With his help I went from strength to strength with almost no pain at all, and moving around perfectly. Relieved!
I tried running with another friend last year. She was training for a half marathon and I just couldn't keep up. My knee was painful, my head wasn't in the right place, I was terrified about my SPD pain flaring up and I gave up after a few runs. I knew I could do it if I tried hard enough; I had completed Race for Life twice before. Looking back on those runs, I was trying too much too soon, and I'm not surprised I found it tough!
This time I took a more sensible approach and downloaded the Couch to 5K (C25K) app and on March 30 2014 I went out on my first walk - jog - walk. I was very self conscious, very cold, and felt a bit daft walking. Something was different this time. Something had clicked; I had the determination and commitment to see the programme through. The app was incredibly easy to use and my husband urged me to keep on, and gave me a boot up the bum to get out of the door when I needed it.
I needed a goal to aim for, so I entered Race for Life. This gave me a date to be able to run 5k non stop and fitted in well with the timing of the C25K programme. I had no care for the time it took me to finish, but I wanted to run the whole way. No walking. No stopping.
I downloaded RunKeeper app which spurred me on. I could quickly see my improvements and this ignited the old, competitive me. I wanted to run faster, to go further, to do better and beat my times. I began reading about pace, about nutrition and hydration. How to improve your run. The only competition I had was myself, but that was all I needed.
It didn't take me 9 weeks to run 5k without stopping. In April I was able to run 5k in 35minutes. A few days later I ran with a friend, and despite planning to run no more than 5k I felt fantastic and we just kept going. And going. And going some more. I ran 4 miles in 48 minutes. I cheered myself on as we ran and burst through the door at home with the smile as wide as the Grand Canyon. My husband commented on how strong I looked, how radiant and well. The best he'd seen me in a long time.
The longer distances improved my stamina and naturally my speed. I stopped using C25K and run how I felt on the day. Sometimes I ran a short distance as fast as I could, another day I would relax into a longer run and enjoy the freedom that came with it. Logging my runs on RunKeeper meant that I could see my 5k time reducing. I had continued reading online about improving your run, and 'Sub 30min 5k' kept popping up. This was a goal to aspire to, and the competitive me started believing that I could achieve this. Little old me, once fragile and in pain, could be strong and fast. It almost seemed impossible to believe that my broken body could cope but I was so fired up that I went for it.
In the training for Race for Life I had just about managed to run a sub 30min 5k. This just pushed me on and competing against my own time, I wanted to do even better on race day. I had found myself a running buddy (known here as L), she was also new to running and we kept each other motivated. A random conversation with a friend of a friend in June led to me and L entering the Great British 10k London Run on July 13. The goalposts suddenly moved, and not only did we need to step up the training for a much longer distance, but we also needed to fundraise £300 between us.
The 10k was soon upon us, and we found ourselves walking down The Mall, infront of Buckingham Palace and preparing to start something neither of us had done before! We joined the SUDEP Action team, all wearing bright orange running vests! It was a surreal moment standing at the start line with the Military Wives singing on a balcony to one side of us and about 18,000 runners behind us. We had trained well, we were prepared and we ran the full distance only slowing to take on water and a few photos! L and I crossed the finish line, hand in hand and sprinting in 1:10.17. We raised £345 for a very worthy charity, and thank our family and friends for digging deep and sponsoring us. So, so proud!
On the morning of Race for Life, July 22, I proudly put my race number on, and on my back I dedicated my efforts to my Grandmother, my Aunt and my Great Aunt all who we had lost to breast cancer. It was a hard, hard run. The nerves got to me on the start line and I set off too fast. I was used to running with music and with a pace prompt from RunKeeper, but my iPhone decided to drop the volume so I felt totally lost. I was grateful for my sunglasses to cover the tears as I pushed myself in blazing hot sunshine! I crossed the finish line in 28mins 11seconds. I watched my mum and daughters approach the finish and I could see that mum was battling hard against her own health problems so I ran to them, grabbed mum's hand and dragged her across the line!
The training, and the goals for training didn't stop there...
Well, the story went something along those lines, but it was that conversation which led to me putting on my running kit and giving it a go.
In my previous life as a school girl, I was a runner. I was good at sprinting and represented my school in a couple of 100m and 4x100m relay races. I was forced to run cross country and distance, but I didn't enjoy that as much as feeling full of power and running FAST! I was quite good at hurdles, and was scouted by a local hockey first team but I suffered a knee injury in Year 10 and despite painful physio, my sporty days came to an end.
During my pregnancy with E, I had severe SPD which carried on for a couple of years after giving birth. I was on crutches in the last trimester, and stubbornly refused the physio's advice to use a wheelchair.Several rounds of physio did no more than aggravate the symptoms, Chronic Pain Clinic scared the bejeezus out of me and I just could not accept that I would never move properly or be pain-free ever again. Luckily for me my closest friend's husband recommended an osteopath and he was an absolute miracle worker. I hobbled into his clinic room and walked out! With his help I went from strength to strength with almost no pain at all, and moving around perfectly. Relieved!
I tried running with another friend last year. She was training for a half marathon and I just couldn't keep up. My knee was painful, my head wasn't in the right place, I was terrified about my SPD pain flaring up and I gave up after a few runs. I knew I could do it if I tried hard enough; I had completed Race for Life twice before. Looking back on those runs, I was trying too much too soon, and I'm not surprised I found it tough!
This time I took a more sensible approach and downloaded the Couch to 5K (C25K) app and on March 30 2014 I went out on my first walk - jog - walk. I was very self conscious, very cold, and felt a bit daft walking. Something was different this time. Something had clicked; I had the determination and commitment to see the programme through. The app was incredibly easy to use and my husband urged me to keep on, and gave me a boot up the bum to get out of the door when I needed it.
I needed a goal to aim for, so I entered Race for Life. This gave me a date to be able to run 5k non stop and fitted in well with the timing of the C25K programme. I had no care for the time it took me to finish, but I wanted to run the whole way. No walking. No stopping.
I downloaded RunKeeper app which spurred me on. I could quickly see my improvements and this ignited the old, competitive me. I wanted to run faster, to go further, to do better and beat my times. I began reading about pace, about nutrition and hydration. How to improve your run. The only competition I had was myself, but that was all I needed.
It didn't take me 9 weeks to run 5k without stopping. In April I was able to run 5k in 35minutes. A few days later I ran with a friend, and despite planning to run no more than 5k I felt fantastic and we just kept going. And going. And going some more. I ran 4 miles in 48 minutes. I cheered myself on as we ran and burst through the door at home with the smile as wide as the Grand Canyon. My husband commented on how strong I looked, how radiant and well. The best he'd seen me in a long time.
The longer distances improved my stamina and naturally my speed. I stopped using C25K and run how I felt on the day. Sometimes I ran a short distance as fast as I could, another day I would relax into a longer run and enjoy the freedom that came with it. Logging my runs on RunKeeper meant that I could see my 5k time reducing. I had continued reading online about improving your run, and 'Sub 30min 5k' kept popping up. This was a goal to aspire to, and the competitive me started believing that I could achieve this. Little old me, once fragile and in pain, could be strong and fast. It almost seemed impossible to believe that my broken body could cope but I was so fired up that I went for it.
In the training for Race for Life I had just about managed to run a sub 30min 5k. This just pushed me on and competing against my own time, I wanted to do even better on race day. I had found myself a running buddy (known here as L), she was also new to running and we kept each other motivated. A random conversation with a friend of a friend in June led to me and L entering the Great British 10k London Run on July 13. The goalposts suddenly moved, and not only did we need to step up the training for a much longer distance, but we also needed to fundraise £300 between us.
The 10k was soon upon us, and we found ourselves walking down The Mall, infront of Buckingham Palace and preparing to start something neither of us had done before! We joined the SUDEP Action team, all wearing bright orange running vests! It was a surreal moment standing at the start line with the Military Wives singing on a balcony to one side of us and about 18,000 runners behind us. We had trained well, we were prepared and we ran the full distance only slowing to take on water and a few photos! L and I crossed the finish line, hand in hand and sprinting in 1:10.17. We raised £345 for a very worthy charity, and thank our family and friends for digging deep and sponsoring us. So, so proud!
On the morning of Race for Life, July 22, I proudly put my race number on, and on my back I dedicated my efforts to my Grandmother, my Aunt and my Great Aunt all who we had lost to breast cancer. It was a hard, hard run. The nerves got to me on the start line and I set off too fast. I was used to running with music and with a pace prompt from RunKeeper, but my iPhone decided to drop the volume so I felt totally lost. I was grateful for my sunglasses to cover the tears as I pushed myself in blazing hot sunshine! I crossed the finish line in 28mins 11seconds. I watched my mum and daughters approach the finish and I could see that mum was battling hard against her own health problems so I ran to them, grabbed mum's hand and dragged her across the line!
The training, and the goals for training didn't stop there...
Sunday 17 August 2014
Meet my muse
In my introduction, I mentioned that I have a 6 year old with learning difficulties. Or disabilities. Or Special Educational Needs - whatever title you wish to use! I never quite know what to say as to us she is just her, and she happens to find learning, interacting, using social skills, talking and lots of other things that we take for granted as normal or easy, incredibly difficult.
We have recently been supported by a Family Link Worker. On her last session with us, she told me that I do a fantastic job of normalising and minimising life with a child with a disability. I know I do this, and it is to my detriment sometimes, as even close friends and family probably don't realise the full extent of what we've been through. I intend to be open and honest on my blog - I would be doing all families who have a SEN child a disservice if I gloss over reality.
So to my muse. E (I will not be using her full name on a public blog) was found to have delayed speech and language at her two-year check. At the time we weren't too concerned as she was a third child with two older sisters who did a lot of talking for her. A lot! Our frustrations with the NHS and systems you have to go through started here, and despite being a NHS Nurse and a Midwife at the time I was surprised even then at how poor care could be.
We had a long wait until E could start Speech and Language Therapy (SaLT), but once she did it was quite apparent that I was learning more about speech problems than she was learning about how to talk. We were referred to a Paediatrician, and seen at the local hospital's Children's Centre.
There followed a couple of years of to-ing and fro-ing from various Health Care Practitioners who basically scratched their heads, told us that E's problems were complex but they weren't sure what her actual diagnosis was. We were told in one clinic appointment the year before E started full-time education that she would need a Statement of Special Educational Needs, and at the next we were discharged from all care. E started Reception with no support, and helpfully there had been an error in handing her over from the Community NHS Teams to school, so they had my word to go on and nothing else.
Reception year almost passed by, and I will never forget the relief when her teacher told us at Parent's Evening that she could see what we were seeing, and she was concerned about E's educational needs and social skills. I really thought at the time that it was the beginning of addressing the problems - and while it was the beginning, I certainly didn't expect E to be going into Year 2 still without diagnosis. E's school put into place many systems of support, but they were as much in the dark as we were.
It took a formal complaint to the local hospital to get E back into the system, and to be seen by a Paediatrician again. At first we thought we were on the right track, but the last year hasn't seen much in the way of progress. We know that E's chromosomes / DNA are all normal. That's fantastic as it rules out syndromes and fragile x. We are not sure if she has Autistic Sprectrum Disorder (ASD) or not; there is not enough evidence to say she is autistic, but likewise there isn't enough to say she isn't. She does have some autistic tendencies, but we are hoping that as her Speech and Language improve, then the knock on effect of improving social skills, being able to read and write well will improve the ASD tendencies.
Most recently, we have been referred for a MRI of E's brain. We were seen by a Specialist Consultant Audiologist (after a long battle with local ENT and Audiology clinics who couldn't make up their minds if E needed grommets, hearing aids, a psychologist or nothing!) and he found that while E's ears work normally, when the sound signal hits her brain stem it is significantly delayed. He discussed E with Great Ormond Street (GOSH) who recommended the MRI scan. Another error occurred by the local hospital when they failed to refer her to a nearby hospital for the scan, and so another complaint by me, which led to all of E's care being transferred to GOSH. I am so glad, and yet so guarded about getting excited that we might get somewhere as we have been so let down by our local hospital. We have recently discovered some potential heart problems too, which I am keen to get diagnosed 100% ASAP, the Paediatrician we saw couldn't tell me if this is linked to the brain stem delays or not.
So, now you have a brief overview of E's problems - Speech and Language Disorder, Hyperacusis (over-sensitivity to certain frequency and volume ranges of sound), possible Auditory Processing Disorder, possible ASD, anxiety and Sinus Arrhythmia. I should tell you about her strengths.
E is such a kind, loving girl. She gives the best cuddles and when she was finally able to say "I love you Mummy" I thought my heart would melt! She loves horses, and although she is a bit frightened of our pets she is really gentle with them. E is a brilliant big sister to our 2 year old, and adores her two bigger sisters (more about them in a different post). E adores Minnie Mouse, and has just started fantastic role playing, I think prompted by her little sister.
That gives a brief summary of the last 5 years. I could never begin to document the stress, the fear, the anger of dealing with E's so-called carers. We have been left so alone with the heartache of watching our girl struggle, with a making-it-up-as-you-go-along approach to parenting a child with complex difficulties; my 100 Mile Running Challenge will hopefully bring something positive out of our experiences.
We have recently been supported by a Family Link Worker. On her last session with us, she told me that I do a fantastic job of normalising and minimising life with a child with a disability. I know I do this, and it is to my detriment sometimes, as even close friends and family probably don't realise the full extent of what we've been through. I intend to be open and honest on my blog - I would be doing all families who have a SEN child a disservice if I gloss over reality.
So to my muse. E (I will not be using her full name on a public blog) was found to have delayed speech and language at her two-year check. At the time we weren't too concerned as she was a third child with two older sisters who did a lot of talking for her. A lot! Our frustrations with the NHS and systems you have to go through started here, and despite being a NHS Nurse and a Midwife at the time I was surprised even then at how poor care could be.
We had a long wait until E could start Speech and Language Therapy (SaLT), but once she did it was quite apparent that I was learning more about speech problems than she was learning about how to talk. We were referred to a Paediatrician, and seen at the local hospital's Children's Centre.
There followed a couple of years of to-ing and fro-ing from various Health Care Practitioners who basically scratched their heads, told us that E's problems were complex but they weren't sure what her actual diagnosis was. We were told in one clinic appointment the year before E started full-time education that she would need a Statement of Special Educational Needs, and at the next we were discharged from all care. E started Reception with no support, and helpfully there had been an error in handing her over from the Community NHS Teams to school, so they had my word to go on and nothing else.
Reception year almost passed by, and I will never forget the relief when her teacher told us at Parent's Evening that she could see what we were seeing, and she was concerned about E's educational needs and social skills. I really thought at the time that it was the beginning of addressing the problems - and while it was the beginning, I certainly didn't expect E to be going into Year 2 still without diagnosis. E's school put into place many systems of support, but they were as much in the dark as we were.
It took a formal complaint to the local hospital to get E back into the system, and to be seen by a Paediatrician again. At first we thought we were on the right track, but the last year hasn't seen much in the way of progress. We know that E's chromosomes / DNA are all normal. That's fantastic as it rules out syndromes and fragile x. We are not sure if she has Autistic Sprectrum Disorder (ASD) or not; there is not enough evidence to say she is autistic, but likewise there isn't enough to say she isn't. She does have some autistic tendencies, but we are hoping that as her Speech and Language improve, then the knock on effect of improving social skills, being able to read and write well will improve the ASD tendencies.
Most recently, we have been referred for a MRI of E's brain. We were seen by a Specialist Consultant Audiologist (after a long battle with local ENT and Audiology clinics who couldn't make up their minds if E needed grommets, hearing aids, a psychologist or nothing!) and he found that while E's ears work normally, when the sound signal hits her brain stem it is significantly delayed. He discussed E with Great Ormond Street (GOSH) who recommended the MRI scan. Another error occurred by the local hospital when they failed to refer her to a nearby hospital for the scan, and so another complaint by me, which led to all of E's care being transferred to GOSH. I am so glad, and yet so guarded about getting excited that we might get somewhere as we have been so let down by our local hospital. We have recently discovered some potential heart problems too, which I am keen to get diagnosed 100% ASAP, the Paediatrician we saw couldn't tell me if this is linked to the brain stem delays or not.
So, now you have a brief overview of E's problems - Speech and Language Disorder, Hyperacusis (over-sensitivity to certain frequency and volume ranges of sound), possible Auditory Processing Disorder, possible ASD, anxiety and Sinus Arrhythmia. I should tell you about her strengths.
E is such a kind, loving girl. She gives the best cuddles and when she was finally able to say "I love you Mummy" I thought my heart would melt! She loves horses, and although she is a bit frightened of our pets she is really gentle with them. E is a brilliant big sister to our 2 year old, and adores her two bigger sisters (more about them in a different post). E adores Minnie Mouse, and has just started fantastic role playing, I think prompted by her little sister.
That gives a brief summary of the last 5 years. I could never begin to document the stress, the fear, the anger of dealing with E's so-called carers. We have been left so alone with the heartache of watching our girl struggle, with a making-it-up-as-you-go-along approach to parenting a child with complex difficulties; my 100 Mile Running Challenge will hopefully bring something positive out of our experiences.
Introduction
I suppose a good place to start my new blog is an introduction to me, the challenge I have set myself and the inspirations behind my challenge.
I am a mum to 4 lovely girls, aged 10, almost 9, 6 and 2. My 6 year old has complex learning difficulties and has recently been referred to Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital - her story so far will be the large basis to this blog, and is the main inspiration for my running challenge, along with her bigger sisters. They told me when I entered the half marathon that I shouldn't accept second best and to push for more. Which is how I came to have entered Brighton Marathon and then taken this one step further...
My biggest supporter is probably my long suffering husband. He is already tolerating me being out of the house for increasing periods of time while I am pounding the pavements. He is such a positive influence - even when I'm feeling my lowest, he can lift my spirits and give me the focus and strength to carry on. It be tiring, stressful and demanding caring for our girls on a daily basis but our determination to remain a team has seen us through the most testing of times.
Another important person to mention is my closest and dearest friend. I watched her cross the finish line of Brighton Marathon earlier this year - she inspired me to run, she gave me the determination to succeed, to achieve, and has been a constant source of strength and love while living with a child with a disability.
Our families have supported my early efforts at running, and although I'm sure they think I'm slightly bonkers for doing all of this, I know that they will be there cheering me on and helping me to reach my fundraising target.
So the challenge is quite simple. 100 miles in registered running events in one year. On October 26 I will begin my 100 Mile Running Challenge in the Great South Run, held not too far from my home town, in Portsmouth. The Challenge continues with the half marathon in February and the full marathon in April 2015. The Challenge finishes with my second attempt at the Great South in October 2015, and with the assistance of my new friend and running coach, we will fill in the final events / miles in the summer of 2015. I am aiming to raise £1000 for Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital with this challenge.
I am a mum to 4 lovely girls, aged 10, almost 9, 6 and 2. My 6 year old has complex learning difficulties and has recently been referred to Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital - her story so far will be the large basis to this blog, and is the main inspiration for my running challenge, along with her bigger sisters. They told me when I entered the half marathon that I shouldn't accept second best and to push for more. Which is how I came to have entered Brighton Marathon and then taken this one step further...
My biggest supporter is probably my long suffering husband. He is already tolerating me being out of the house for increasing periods of time while I am pounding the pavements. He is such a positive influence - even when I'm feeling my lowest, he can lift my spirits and give me the focus and strength to carry on. It be tiring, stressful and demanding caring for our girls on a daily basis but our determination to remain a team has seen us through the most testing of times.
Another important person to mention is my closest and dearest friend. I watched her cross the finish line of Brighton Marathon earlier this year - she inspired me to run, she gave me the determination to succeed, to achieve, and has been a constant source of strength and love while living with a child with a disability.
Our families have supported my early efforts at running, and although I'm sure they think I'm slightly bonkers for doing all of this, I know that they will be there cheering me on and helping me to reach my fundraising target.
So the challenge is quite simple. 100 miles in registered running events in one year. On October 26 I will begin my 100 Mile Running Challenge in the Great South Run, held not too far from my home town, in Portsmouth. The Challenge continues with the half marathon in February and the full marathon in April 2015. The Challenge finishes with my second attempt at the Great South in October 2015, and with the assistance of my new friend and running coach, we will fill in the final events / miles in the summer of 2015. I am aiming to raise £1000 for Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital with this challenge.
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