Bournemouth Half Marathon - 6th October 2013

Shame
It's been over a month since I've been here sharing my horror stories and triumphs of running. I feel ashamed for not keeping it up regularly, but life got a little crazy and something had to give and the blog lost. But running training prevailed, luckily as my first half marathon is tomorrow.

Exhaustion
The last month has seen training ramp up, for what will be my first half marathon. Saturday or Sunday started early with 9 mile, 10 mile, 11 mile runs, the night before spent chaste with only minimal imbibing of alcohol, well apart from one...and I still ran 9 miles the following morning.

One longer run was awful, I'd had a bad back earlier in the week and so ran with a sort of back support wrapped around my middle. About 6 -7 miles in, my hip started to complain, quietly to start with, swiftly moving on to SHOUTING. Feeling like a bag of rusty nine inch nails were writhing around my hip joint, I, of course carried on, virtually dragging my left foot. There was no dribbling and no talk of 'The Bells, The Bells' but I imagine I could have easily auditioned for that part. Run complete. Confidence knocked. Completely exhausted.

Courage
And so the next planned long run was filled with trepidation. Would my body let me down. Would it tell me in no uncertain terms to 'bloody stop running, you crazy woman', would my resolve to run be beaten? No, no and no. My resolve never gets broken, I keep on going like a dog with a bone. The run was great, no pain at all, thankfully and another milestone achieved.

Surprise and Sadness
A lone run out one afternoon saw one of those moments every runner dreads. The slow motion, surprise movement from upright to prone. In the road, in the gutter, in broad daylight and people saw me. Picking myself up, I put weight back on my foot and sharp pain shot through my ankle. Tears sprang to my eyes, and the only thing running was the blood down my hand as I limped back home. The ankle swelled and hurt (add lots of profanities) three weeks before the half marathon. More profanities.

I rested a week and then tested my ankle on short runs, all good. Then a long run, still all good. A fabulous result, my ankle was fine and I would still be running the Bournemouth Half Marathon.

Excitement and Trepidation
So it is tomorrow, 13.1 miles. I am excited and nervous but know that unless my bones break, or my joints fail I will be crossing the finish line. Looking dishevelled but ecstatic.

Thankful
There are a few people who have been hugely instrumental in helping me achieve my running goals and they are Clare Horan, Gemma Kirkland and Emma Obrien. And a thank you (I think) to Adam Eason for being my running inspiration and getting me going.

What a difference a day makes....

I’ve only recently heard this song by Jamie Cullum and love it.  His voice is like liquid velvet on my ears and it’s a beautiful love song. 

What a difference a day makes - Jamie Cullum

This weekend my training run was 10 miles, well it ended up being 9.18 miles (14.78k), a training run! This time last year I was training to run 10 miles in the Great South Run, and here I am, doing this distance as training (imagine confused face). I am in awe of myself running this far, not in an arrogant way, but more in a disbelief kinda way. There is a version of me that runs, and that version of me sometimes still feels that it’s not really me. I’m still surprised that a) I can run that far; b) that I’ve stayed committed to doing it, and; c) I can’t do without running in my life anymore. 

What a difference a year makes....

This year has been amazing in so many ways; I've started to write a book, I've got nine public speaking events to give, I've qualified as a Clinical Hypnotherapist, and lots more besides. So, some incredible highs and running has been my saviour in all this chaos, from stress, for my natural high, for giving me a sense of freedom, for boosting my self esteem and for giving me some nonsense to write about for pleasure.

When I started running just over a year ago my initial hopes were to become svelte and lithe, well that hasn't happened. My comedy size chest has stayed exactly the same size (queue Benny Hill music). I say comedy because I do not have, what you might consider to be a runners figure. Many women whom I've spoken to about running have lamented 'They couldn't possible run as their boobs are too big'.

Well let me 'out boob' that comment, if I can run 10 miles with a 32HH chest (I could basically wear a cup as a hat), then any woman can do it. Get the right bra, the right attitude and start to run.

Training plan on track, kinda....

With regards to whether my training plan is on track, I've missed two training runs. One due to illness and one due to life just being too damn busy and complicated at the moment. They were the short ones, the 6 milers, not the long runs, and I'm on track (no pun intended).

In six weeks time I will have completed my first half marathon and I imagine I will be feeling like the cat that got the cream, albeit a little tired. So another 5 weeks training to go and ramping up the training distance to 11 miles next weekend! Eek.

A Female Runner was Stabbed on Southampton Common

Not the most cheery title I'll admit, but true. A woman was running on Southampton Common and was stabbed by a man. She was running with her dog, at 9.45am. This information has come from the Southampton Echo so I cannot in any way vouch for it's validity.

Unusually for me, part of my running schedule for the Bournemouth Half Marathon I had one day without someone to run with and for 8 miles. And so in light of what happened I spent some time scouring the news for information, was it safe, should I carry some sort of 'weapon' with me; a nasty perfume that I could spray into an unsuspecting assailants eyes; or perhaps a tennis ball in one leg of a pair of tights that I could use to swing around their legs and trip them up while I make a run for it (only women of a certain age are likely to get the tennis ball in a leg of tights scenario); a rape alarm? I phoned the 24 hour police line (not the emergency one, of course) to be told to call back later they were busy. Questions running through my head; were the police worried, should women avoid the common at all costs? I didn't know, I couldn't find any helpful information.

I wasn't giving up my chosen run route without a fight
After a six mile run mid week, the eight mile run was part of my training plan, and was not something that I could, or wanted to miss. Nor did I want to restrict my eight miles solely to suburbia, roads, and traffic. My route took me through the Southampton Sports Centre, The Golf Club, the parts of the edge of the common in Highfield and down through the bottom of the common, Cemetery Road (to the locals known as Doggers Alley).

I also wanted to run with my outdated, classic, cheesey, hardcore, garage etc, etc dance music ringing in my ears. There is something in the rhythm of dance music like white noise to my mind and switches everything else off and allows my mind to open and let the thoughts flow.

Stubborn as...
I refused to let one incident affect what I now loved doing (well most of the time anyway), or let it affect my choices with regards to a route which I knew I would enjoy more. I was defiant against a potential risk. I would not let one person scare me from what I wanted to do, no matter what the perceived risk was. Now don't get me wrong if there was a very serious problem and multiple attacks had been made my choice would have been different. I was also aware that you have to take the media with a pinch of salt, how much of the reporting was 'exaggerated'?

And so I ran my route, the one I wanted to, part of it away from suburbia.

The first four miles were pretty much uphill culminating in Golf Course (add expletive) Road. It's very steep and it was at then end of the first half uphill route. At the top of Golf Course Road the route was much more pleasant. Part of which was running through the trees.

It was bright and sunny on Sunday morning and running through the shade and sunlight was like natures own strobe lighting, beautiful and perfect and cool.

As I ran, ignoring any sensible advice I'd been given I thought about the man who stabbed the woman in the park. What was, had been, his life experiences to lead him to do such a violent act? Did he have a mental illness, a mental breakdown, why would he do that? A random act of violence cannot come from a person who is happy.

With every step that I take on my training runs, getting ready for the half marathon it will result in raising some money for Mind, the mental health charity. Mind help those who need support and advice on a whole variety of issues; from anxiety and panic attacks, abuse, bereavement, phobias, depression, self esteem, the list goes on. My new burgeoning career is about helping people with a whole variety of issues and it's close to my heart. I wondered whether if that man, who stabbed the woman, knew about Mind and went to them for support before, then maybe he wouldn't have done what he did, something I'll never know.

So every step that I took in the woods, in the trees in the wonderful strobe lighting of nature, I knew that I'd done the right thing. I knew that any money I raise might help someone in need.

I say do what you love, take some risks, live life, help those that need it wherever you can.

I'll continue running all the while that I can, even though it's a love hate relationship. I took a risk when I started running, feeling like an idiot for even trying and here I am, planning a 9 mile run for tomorrow morning. Who'd have thought it.

The Good Hair Guide to Avoiding 'Monica' Hair in this Heat

Oh I Wish
There is no way around it. I have big hair. And in this mini heatwave running with big hair is akin to running with a king size electric blanket wrapped around my head turned  up to scorchio.

So after planning my half marathon training to coincide with the first mini heatwave in since 2006 (when I used to wonder why runners didn't just use their cars) I started with a small seven miles to kick it all off.

Sat 13th July
I hadn't actually mapped the route but was guessing the distance based on similar previous routes I'd run. My running partner Gem hadn't completed a long run since the Great South in Oct last year, so combining that with the heatwave it could prove to be a tough one. But that's OK, we'll just leave early in the morning, how about 8am. I must admit to being quite excited by the prospect of starting my half marathon training as it was a weekend of sorting, life laundering, getting my proverbial 'stuff' together.

It felt difficult, I felt like The Wicked Witch of the East completely drying out, my eyes were stinging as the sweat from my electric blanket heated head poured from me. But as I've found, once you've mentally passed the barrier of 'not stopping', it's almost impossible to do so, you also start to automatically replace the negative self talk, which is basically 'I can't do this' with 'I can do this', 'I've done it before', and start to think about how chuffed and smug you'll be when you've finished the route.

And we did, we completed the route, yes were melting, and exhausted but we finished it.

Question is, will a baseball cap to run in serve to help keep the heat off my head or just act as a couple of pings of the microwave to super heat my head. I don't have the answer to that just yet but must Google it.

Mapping the run showed an impressive 7.43 mile route. Excuse me while I high five myself.

Bearing in mind the heat, I was very aware that I must stay hydrated and drank copious amounts. What I didn't do was eat, well not until the early afternoon as I was still completing my 'missions' and it wasn't until I was feeling a bit wan, early afternoon, that I ate, well scoffed a sandwich would be a better description. And mid afternoon the tell tale signs of migraine started to creep in. I'm well stocked with pain killers for such events and still wouldn't slow down and it continued into Sunday with the 'swimming through glue' and nausea that sometimes accompanies these blasted headaches. So lesson learned, eat and drink!

Thursday 18th July
We still have a heatwave. There is still plenty of rush hour traffic. I still have a half marathon to train for. Cold beers and BBQ appear much more inviting but in the absence of any invite to such an event the trainers were first choice. Following a hectic week, lack of sleep, yet again I hadn't mapped a route but out we trotted in the insane heat. Although it wasn't the six miles planned it was 4.3 miles and in this heat I'm still pleased with that.

Saturday 20th July
The heatwave continues, apparently we are at  level 3 - 'heatwave action' which almost sounds like a great name for an adult movie! The sun beating down on me pulling water out of me like the taxman pulling cash out of my salary.

In a bid to perhaps run a little cooler our escapade started at about 7.45 with our 8 mile route mapped out. Down to the seafront, up through the old town, around the park up, yadda, yadda, yadda. Some parts harder to run than others. Some parts in full sun, between the buildings, no shade, no wind. Some parts, long slow inclines, with no shade.

And then, eventually, we were at that point on the route, sanctuary.  The terrain was flat, followed by a slow decline to the end of the route. The surroundings were wooded, providing some longed for shade and we were homeward bound. And arrived, still standing, just. We just ran 8.3 miles in a heatwave.

And after this run, I drank loads of water, and I ate. Not a migraine in site just plenty of endorphins.

I can only hope that as I push myself to run in the heat, that come the Bournemouth half marathon it will be a piece of cake, as surely running in autumn will be like heaven compared to running in a heatwave.

And to avoid the electric blanket heating effect of my hair I think I've found the solution.

Here's to the predicted thunderstorms and noisey hair!

For Goodness Sake, Shut the Fluff up and Get On With It

Yey..... running 13.2 miles....what was I thinking. Like c'mon? You're a busty girl, keeping running like this you're going to be using those as a scarf for the winter of 2013, no need to worry about the rising cost of heating bills!

Torn (Que song in your head by Natalie Imbroglio)
Some of my future goals include running a half marathon (jeez!), setting up my hypnotherapy practice, writing a book on self esteem, getting back to my artistic roots and becoming a super heroine and saving the world, of course (doesn't everyone?).

Sometimes though, I am dogged by the rebel in me, who is hellbent of undoing all the good work I have done this last year. I am ashamed to admit that I have been partaking of the odd cigarette, especially when there is a glass of Prosecco to accompany it, the lascivious part of my nature taking full control, which is in complete opposition to the goals I really want. After all my study, there is a certain feeling of freedom and a willingness to go wild but I have to remind myself that I am no whippersnapper any more.

So enough now of the self indulgence and my wild side, a bit of self hypnosis to get myself right back on the righteous track I have less than three months to get half marathon fit. Expletive. Ooookaaaay. So goodbye to the bad old ways and hello new invigorated healthy me.

It is common to lapse on whatever course we take in life but it is just as important to admit to yourself that you are infallible, that you can fall down but what's most important is being able to pick yourself back up, and get right back on that proverbial horse.

So now I have a training plan, I have had many, but this was devised with my running partner, this very evening, helping each other along. Giving up boozy nights before a big run and getting ourselves into a good running form. So the half marathon running plan looks like this:

13/07 - 7 miles
16/07 - 6 miles
20/07 - 8 miles
25/07 - 6 miles
28/07 - 8 miles
31/07 - 6 miles
02/08 - 9 miles
07/08 - 6 miles
10/08 - 9 miles
14/08 - 6 miles
17/08 - 10 miles
21/08 - 6 miles
25/08 - 10 miles
28/08 - 6 miles
31/08 - 11 miles
04/09 - 6 miles
07/09 - 11 miles
11/09 - 5 miles
14/09 - 12 miles
15/09 - 5 miles
21/09 - 12 miles
28/09 - 6 miles

Two reasonable runs a week. I'm considering hiring a personal trainer for more exercise to work on building core strength, glutes and anything else that could do with some work (most of it I'm sure). And I may even learn how to use that blasted Garmin watch. Time to quit talking about it and bloody well get on with it.

And for those of you that don't know Torn, here it is, but a more entertaining version.
Torn - Mimed

Horror Film extra and an Impromptu Shower

The Great British Weather

As anyone who lives in, or has visited the UK, one thing they will know for sure is the changeability of the weather. It can change on a sixpence: flip flops, linen trousers and vest tops for the am, sou'wester, Wellingtons and jumpers for the afternoon. Wednesday wasn't quite so changeable, it was generally dull, overcast and wet....all day. Which after the glorious sunshine we'd had over the weekend didn't do much to lighten ones mood.

And so, after agreeing the previous week to run the Copythorne 10k Fun Run (now there's an oxymoron if ever I heard one) after work the thought of doing it did not fill me with any joy at all. Traffic was horrendous, everyone was in their car to avoid the rain and was crawling the 20 miles to the venue.  Team that with torrential rain and my first 10k since Marwell. My cup was overflowing with joy. Think Grumpy Cat and you have a good depiction of my anticipation.  Thoughts of a cancelled run were running rife through my mind (no pun intended) but alas it wasn't to be.

The Copythorne 10k Start
So there I was on a damp June evening, hanging about in a field with my running chum, whom I have to say has longer legs than me and is much faster than me, contemplating whether we could actually duck out at 5k? Hmmm, now there's an idea.

It was a fun run, the atmosphere was excited, the field was muddy, the rain was still going for it and we discussed what time we wanted to make. I'm always slightly apprehensive that I'll hold someone back and slow them down and stop them getting their own PB. I wanted to knock 1 minute 30 seconds of my best 10k, and then we discussed it a bit more and decided that why not go for it and knock off 6 and half minutes of my PB? Yeah, why not, piece of cake....surely. I laughed at myself and my foolhardiness at such an extravagant aim. But in for a penny, in for a pound as they say.

And Then We Were Off
After some poor lad had been publicly humiliated for wearing some kind of Mankini affair to run in (there were more shorts to this version) the air horn blasted and we were off, I would say like a bullet from a gun but that would be a blatant lie. Round the field, avoiding the big mud hole and out onto the road, with 10k before us. My running buddy keeping track of our time against our laps all the way round.

She encouraged and pushed (not literally), and cajoled me all the way round. I pushed myself harder than I've done before, and I panted, and ran and never stopped. My breathing was laboured, fitting for a part in a horror film extra either as pursuer or pursued.

The race was two laps of 5k, so once you'd done one lap, you knew exactly what was coming and on our first lap I'd already smashed my parkrun PB. Holy cow. And I still had to do it all again <add expletives here>. That mental internal battle was raging,' it doesn't matter if you don't make it', 'it doesn't matter if you walk some of it', against, 'just relax', 'lengthen your stride and consider this the most relaxing exercise in the world', 'striding along without a care in the world#.

The Copythorne residents were amazing. In the rubbish weather they were in their drives cheering us on and handing out water, a wonderful sense of community. When I'm running and trying to drink water from a cup, it's basically like throwing it my face and hoping some lands in my mouth. Luckily with all the rain it didn't show my poor aim.

The Last Stretch
Up the last hill and round the corner and we would be there. My running bud still encouraging me, telling me a woman behind was gaining on us and we weren't going to be overtaken by her. I was pulling everything out of the bag that I had. My lungs felt like they were going to turn inside out, my legs felt like they'd gained two stone in weight each and then the finish line was in site. My running chum, grabbed my hand and we ran as fast as we could to the finish line. And we got our time.

I had smashed my PB by 7 minutes and 29 seconds. I'm sorry, by how much. I was ever so slightly gobsmacked, and ecstatic, amazed, surprised, proud, happy...

And in my exhaustion and happiness and surprise put my arms up to hold on to the roof of the small gazebo. Enter... the even wetter T-Shirt competition. An evenings water cascaded down giving me an even bigger impromptu shower than I had been expecting!

My running antics still surprise me, I still don't really feel like a 'runner' and yet my body and mind still surprise me with their amazing capabilities to overcome some limiting beliefs.

A huge thanks to Emma O'Brien who, without her I wouldn't have achieved such a huge PB. There were no medals or T-Shirts for this 10k but my smile is medal enough.

My Running Mojo was like a Shadow

It's been well over a month since my last post. Naughty me.

I have been running.... although, not as much. The running took a bit of a back seat as studying became my priority to achieve a qualification as a Clinical Hypnotherapist. And here I am in a rather cheesey shot, holding my certificate with Adam Eason (the chap who runs the school!).

So now, there's no excuse not to ramp up my running in preparation for the13.2 miles hurtling toward me on October 6th. But I haven't been completely ensconced in my study with the lamp light burning until the early hours studying, there have been a few notably races.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My
My running mojo made a vigorous reappearance with the sunshine. And so a little jaunt with the ladies on a hot Thursday evening saw what was going to be a 9k meander around the countryside turn into an 11k trek. Through the countryside, round lakes, past horses being broken in, cute dogs being walked, being overtaken by faster runners, being bitten to buggery, getting lost in the woods was all part of that evenings entertainment.

Soon after this was the Marwell 10k. The infamous Marwell 10k. You start in the zoo and you finish in the zoo and in-between are lots of hills for about the first 5k. It was warm, the hills were long and hard but before you know it you can here the announcers as runners make it through the finish line. When you can hear that sound it's a pretty good incentive to pick up your pace and get a shufty on.  Unfortunately the lions, tigers and bears were all safe in their enclosures otherwise I would surely have got a PB by quite some margin. I'd have to make do with another medal instead.

10k and some New Forest Ponies
This was shortly followed by 10k run with a friend in the New Forest. This was a beautiful run, through some beautiful scenery and even a baby Shetland pony. Baby Shetland ponies are cute as! This was a tough run for me as a migraine hit half way round, which means that my vision goes somewhat, lots of flashing lights  like running through a disco. Luckily for me though I was able to run through it, and avoided the nausea and skull crushing headaches that usually accompany the disco effect.

And Then the Trainers Got Dusty
My running mojo had basically done one. Skulked off, was hiding, my running mojo felt like a shadow.  Very close to me, never quite connecting and just whispering quietly in my ear, 'just go for a little run', 'set the alarm early, go before work', 'I miss you, you know you'll feel better if you run'. And so the voice went on, quietly, not berating, just there.

Studying had to come first and as I got more and more desk bound, running became less and less attractive, even though I knew it would lift my mood and improve my day. The thought of running then became a feeling of guilt, filled with lots of 'shoulds', 'coulds' and 'musts', but no action.

Two weeks and no foot pounding action to be seen. Until today. Today I just had to run. Not running, leaves me feeling down, and then I find myself in a cycle of feeling bad, not wanting to go running, and knowing that it will make me feel better. So this morning I just ran. I had no route planned I just had to get out and run and run. Running first thing (well 9 ish) is wonderful, it's quiet, it's cool and there's hardly any traffic on the roads. The common is beautiful, dappled sun through the trees, a few people walking their dogs, a few runners and a sense of inordinate calm.

I ran just over four miles this morning and it feels good to be back out there, still not fully connected to my running shadow, but hopefully soon it will be reattached permanently just like Peter Pan and his.

Has anyone seen my running mojo

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Well my version anyway, wind, rain, dark and cold. Oh my God (or should I just say OMG?) I was getting sick and tired of the cold, the wind, or the driving rain, or just feeling constantly in the dark, almost to the point where I just didn't want to run anymore. Was this a nuclear Winter? Its felt endless, it had gone on for far, far too long in my book. I wanted to feel the sun on my face, feel a warm glow before I'd run 3k.

I was fed up of getting in from running, sitting in the bath for an hour to warm my body from ice sculpture back to human. Dressing in as many layers as possible to keep warm and going to bed early with the electric blanket on temperature setting 'Lava'.

My first Wednesday night training session with the Lordshill Road Runners Club was in the driving rain and cold, doing hill training. I can tell you for a fact there is no need to pay for expensive micro dermabrasion, some good old British driving rain will do the job for you just fine.

The Unidentified Object in the Sky
And there it was. It shyly started to poke it's head through the clouds and bless us with it's warmth. The sun was finally making an appearance, and boy did it feel good. The flouro yellow running gloves, the orange beany hat all now relegated the cupboard under the stairs Harry Potter style. At last running would become a more pleasurable experience and not a battle of wills against hypothermia.

A Social Life
So with the wind, rain, cold and dark taking its toll on my running prowess so too has my social life. The last few months have been hectic. And I no longer have a large capacity for alcohol it seems. With my studies, running and various other projects on the go herbal tea has taken preference as my drink of choice.  So much so that a couple of large glasses of red can render me sofa bound for a morning trying to recover. And so the social life has taken it's toll on the Saturday morning 'parkrun', as the slightly jaded, unwell feeling made the bed seem decidedly more inviting than a pair of trainers and fresh air for 5k round the common.

But the crazy social life is starting to calm down and I'll be finalising my studies, starting new projects and upping the running to get half marathon fit, and who knows maybe the London Marathon next year?

So goodbye to the horsemen, hello Summertime, hello mojo.

The Boston Marathon
I feel saddened that any human being wants to maim and kill others. I hope that this act of violence will not deter any runners from running in large races.  I'm sure it won't, I'm not a professional but if anything I want to run more, raise more money for charity and take part in these wonderful team events. My condolences to all those who were affected, I do hope this never happens again. x

Eastleigh 10K

Roger's Profanisauras

Now that's something I might have swallowed and regurgitated this morning at about 9.30, only manners kept my mouth closed. It's Spring right? It should be all chicks, bunnies and daffodils, shouldn't it? For goodness sake, what's with all the white stuff, what's with the minus temperatures. Where's this Global Warming I keep hearing about (I do know that the Gulf Stream could make it colder for us in old Blighty). And so, donned in Lycra leggings, trainers that have seen far too many miles, an orange beany, fluorescent gloves and a rather fetching fluorescent T-Shirt (thank you B&Q) and the 'now' obligatory bright red lipstick (the red lipstick seemed like a fun thing to do for the Santa Run, and now I think it's fun for any race I do and will drag as many of my chums along to do the same with all other races) I was outside. And that ensemble is  not enough clothes to wear on a morning like this morning. And so I managed to refrain from spouting from Roger's Profanisauras as the excitement at the beginning of the race took over and I jumped excitedly in an effort to keep warm and warm up some muscles that were shortly going to get a beating.

In a strange way, just in my mind, 6.4 miles sounds longer than 10k.  I'm not sure why, it may because breaking the race down into little chunks of 1k at a time make it easier to get round, and also to see how far you're going tots up quickly (well, I say quickly!).

And soon the gun went off, the elite runners shot off (in case you were unsure, I wasn't at the front with the elite runners) and eventually I crossed the line where the first chip reading was taken and off the crowd went.  I was running on my own, which I'm perfectly comfortable with and was able to give myself some positive chat as I went round. Remind myself to relax, go with the flow like the sound of train meandering across the country side, lengthen my stride and enjoy myself.

There was The HILL which, after training with the Lordshill Road Runners last Monday was fine, I worked my arms and tried to push myself up a little faster and after the hill it was downhill and flat all the way. All the way around the route each k was marked and in no time at all I was over half way round and then mentally I'd already won.

My legs thought differently however. Their desire was to curl up with a good Sunday afternoon movie at about 5k was quite strong. The only difficulty being that there's no going back at this point, the sofa, a movie and a hot cup of tea were just mere pipe dreams at this point.

But round I continued, and then before I knew it the end was in sight and it was like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. And I completed it, my legs didn't fall off, I didn't throw my toys out of  the pram, I didn't cry, I just ran and ran and ran, until I reached the finish. I did it in 1:15:44 and now I have something to beat for the next race and I can't wait.

For this afternoon though, I will engage with my sofa, a nice glass of red, a good movie and enjoy the endorphins that feel like a giant warm hug.

A big thank you to my running buddies who are always an inspiration and motivator. And a massive thanks to the Marshall's who must have been colder than liquid nitrogen.

They say, every second counts . . . really?

Who are 'they'? Mystical people who lurk quietly in the background and invent stuff that is universally accepted by many. So every second counts. Does it? Counts towards what? Does every second asleep count towards less wrinkles? You'd never get a woman out of bed if that was the case. Do seconds actually count?

Hell yeah!

If you're a runner, every second definitely counts, do doubt about it, no forgotten seconds when you're a runner.

My first Southampton parkrun since the beginning of December 2012 on was 9th March. Ouch, that's a fair amount of lie- ins on a Saturday when my pj's should have been swapped for my running gear. And the joy of 'Route B' for my first parkrun in ages (large groan and look of trepidation). Any parkrunners of Southampton common will know that Route B consists of the killer hill, twice, with a mini hill at the beginning. Oh my lordy how on earth was I going to manage this. Well, it appears bullying, and sheer determination work quite well.

My goal is to run 5k in 30 mins, well to start with, I may amend that time and make it shorter the faster I get, but at the moment my goal is 30 minutes with my fastest time coming in at 36 something so metaphorically speaking I have some ground to cover.

My neighbour is another crazy fool who runs, and is considerably faster than me and we were going to parkrun together on this particular Saturday (yippee?). And luckily for me, she is also very good at bullying friends, crazies, other runners and now it was my turn. Gulp, there was no escaping now and it's not as though I could outrun her. The whistle went and off we set, hill no. 1, completed, only another 2 to go. And around the route we went, encouraging words all the way round.  My conversation limited now as I panted at an increased pace round the 5k route, sounding like an extra for a horror movie. I'm sure I was responsible for others getting a PB as those ahead of me were running for their lives rather than planning a new PB!

On the last leg, my faster neighbour jetted off to the finish. She was the good cop, then I was left with bad cop. And she pushed me (not literally of course), and pushed, 'stretch those legs', 'just a bit faster', 'nearly there', 'keep on going, one last push', 'you can swear at me when you finish'. If I could have, I would have sworn at her there and then all the way to the finish.

The end is surely nigh

As I crossed the finish line egged on by parkrunners, I thought my lungs were going to turn inside out, but there was a knowing grin stopping 'The Fly' moment from happening. I knew I'd a new personal best, I just didn't know by how much. And in the words of the Money Supermarket advert I felt 'Epic'.

I waited with excitement and trepidation for my results and when they came through, my smile could have split my face. I had a new personal best, not just 2 or 3 seconds, not even 10. I smashed my PB by 33 seconds, and every one of those 33 seconds made my weekend.

A light bulb moment

It was an eye opening day for me, that demonstrated how easy it is to get complacent about my ability to achieve more than I thought I could. I'd labelled myself as a slow runner and to a lot of runners I'm sure that my times are slow but it's a huge mental block that I've overcome. And now I'm a faster runner and there's no turning back and no stopping me. Bring on my 2hr half marathon in October.

Losing lbs

Incorporating a new healthy eating plan is also contributing to my belief and ability to reach my desired goal, and as the lbs fall away, the speed increases, and so my life continues on a positive merry go round.  I would not have believed a year ago how much running would enhance my life, so much more than I ever believed possible.

This Saturday I'll see if I can knock a few more seconds from my time.

And if I could only work out how to use my Garmin watch I may be able to be my own bully, to push myself  a little harder and make some more of those little seconds count.

Give me a cocktail of drugs . . . NOW!

Following my first long ish run a weekend or so ago, I followed it with a trip to the Lordshill Road Runners Club the very next day. My drive to keep on running even stronger now that I managed a 5.2k route, I just wanted to do more, to get back to where I was in October when I was doing practise runs of 8 miles.

Of course I didn't expect to sprint off like Jessica Ennes but, to be out in the brass monkeys weather with a still slightly twingy knee is kinda liberating.  Inside my head I'm strutting like the Fonz, well chuffed with myself, out in the freezing cold, ard as nails. Imagination is a wonderful thing, but then delusion can be as well.  It was tough, it was cold, my knee complained a couple of times, but I had a word with it, was a little more gentle and finished the evening without a limp. So I was pleased, at last, pounding my stress out through my feet.

A crazily manic week ensued and my next run didn't happen until the Sunday by which time I was feeling a little stir crazy, a little twitchy, eager to don my glamorous running outfit. Sunday morning arrived, outfit donned and I planned my route, all 7.19k of it, around the houses and common and off I set. I ran all the way, no stopping, no walking, all the way home. And I felt amazing when I got back, that cocktail of drugs: epinephrine, serotonin and dopamine (so Wikipedia will have me believe) and it's a wonderful feeling. Like you're having the best day you could ever have but just a little knackered, knowing that I could still do it and I wasn't going back to my pre-running self, knowing that I wouldn't give into the sofa and allow it to meld around me and suck me down. And I have to wonder, why on earth didn't I get this years ago? Why didn't I twig in my 20's how great exercise can be, why is partying hard, so much more attractive in your 20's . I bet natural drugs are far better than any processed drugs?

But the drugs are paying off
It seems that this healthy 'ish' lifestyle is paying off. A quick visit to the GP for those female checks that you have to have from time to time include a blood pressure check, your weight as well as the god awful lolly pop stick test. Yeuch. Anyway back to the blood pressure. It appears I have the blood pressure of a teenager. Picture smug Fonz strut. Yep, the blood pressure of a teenager, I've no idea what that actually means, but I'm presuming it's good and it's the closest I'm going to get to feeling like a teenager!  The other part of the check-up is the dreaded scales and the scales declared that I had the weight of someone who likes to eat cake, cook good food and go out to dinner. Bugger, I knew there was a reason that I didn't replace the battery in my scales. Unfortunately I cannot un-know what I know and now I have to do something about that too. Add expletive of your choice.

Mothering Sunday
This weekend will see a visit back to Southampton parkrun, somewhere I haven't ventured this year. I will be laying out my running garments on the floor next to my bed, ready to slide into first thing, to ensure that I get my arse running 5.2k.  With my drug cocktail flowing round my bloodstream I will then get myself up to my lovely Mothers and Step Dads for some family get together time this weekend.  And this is where I'll enlist the help of Mum to take some crucial measurements so that I can no longer hide from the truth.

Hypnosis for Running by Adam Eason
While reading this book I realised that I was lacking in goals. Yes I was running, yes I was eating healthy food the majority of the time, yes my wine consumption had dwindled to a glass or two a week and yes I was still off the fags. But I didn't have any goals. And so I've got a couple of good SMART goals now. To reduce my weight by 18lbs and to run 5k in 30mins. As yet I haven't planned the end date or how exactly I'm going to do it or over how long. But I will post on here how I'm doing, and what my plan is. I may not put my weight or measurements but I will post my losses.

There, I've done it now. Committed myself to blog, and it's a little scary but as the teenagers say YOLO!

Now where's that Justin Beiber CD . . . .

The Liberation of the Trainers

I escaped.  Escaped a poorly tummy, escaped a slightly dodgy knee and escaped from the confines of my house and liberated my trainers.

After being confined to my house yesterday, nervous about being too far from a bathroom, and chained to my desk to study, this morning I woke feeling OK.

I haven't completed a decent run since the 16th December which was the Santa Run and the last few months have been exceptionally busy. So I can't blame it all on my mental attitude but I could feel a decline into my old ways.  Where the sofa was more enticing than my trainers, where a bar of chocolate was more agreeable than a stir fry and where mentally I wasn't being very nice to myself.

And this morning I changed that, I ran my 5.2k route.  I woke, put on my running gear, plugged in my ipod and hit the pavement and there was the merest hint of snowflakes in the air and it was bloody cold but I ran all the way.  My knee was a bit twingy but ultimately fine.

And now I feel amazing and now I remember why I love running.

I have some running goals; to run 5k in 30mins and to run the Bournemouth half marathon in 2 hours.  My 5.2k this morning was about 37/38 minutes (I hadn't charged my Garmin up, so was going by the clock in the lounge as I left). So to help me get there I'll be reading this:

I'll be getting a new pair of these:

Considering entering this . . .
http://www.racetothestones.com/

And will be doing more work on my stability ball!

I'll post progress of times and measurements.

But right now, it's time to continue enjoying my runners high and make some poached egg on toast with a fresh coffee before back to my studies.

Enjoy your Sunday.

Holy Crap, oh . . . .

Yey, parkrun Day

Saturday was my first tentative step back to running following a dodgy knee picked up from a skiing holiday a few weeks ago. Well, it was planned to be my first tentative step back to running.

I've read numerous times, in all sorts of places 'DO NOT RUN ON AN INJURY'.  So as someone who likes to follow rules (I tend to do as I'm told) I didn't run, because I didn't want to make it worse. Anyway, my knee still niggling I eventually went to the Dr.  I had put it off because a little part of me was worried that I would be told 'No more running for you Miss'.  My left knee already sounding like a bowl of coco pops with any movement it makes.

So, sat like a nervous rabbit, explaining the knee situation with the Dr.  The Dr insisted that she bend it this way and that, push it about a bit and then concluded that there was in fact, no serious damage. That I could start running again, gently to start with. That the Rice Crispy sound effect was fine, it was just wear and tear. Woo hoo, I could stop licking the windows at home, I could put my trainers back on, go out, get sweaty, get cold, get the blood going.

Except, nature said 'NO'.

Please do add, at this point, an array of expletives, lots, and as vitriolic as you care to imagine. I fear that I might offend if I were to write my own. Nature decided that on Friday evening, in the time it takes to leave the office to the time it takes to get home, it would present me with a lovely surprise, which saw me rushing through the door, to the WC, making it in the nick of time.  I don't need to go into detail here but believe me when I say that I felt nervous about sneezing or coughing.

Thank you nature for providing a stomach bug right at the start of my weekend. Please add more expletives! So Saturday morning starts with a lie in, not a huge one, but a lie in nonetheless and I felt sad, despondent and quite frankly a bit pissed off. And I miss my running buddies lots.

But we always have choices in life and I had a few:
a) mope around the house, feeling sorry for myself, being grumpy and miserable or;
b) do more hypnotherapy homework, plan my running schedule in more detail, book a few more races and make use of the cosied time up being indoors.

I chose b.

So as I sit in my study watching the merest hint of snow flakes falling from the sky, in my fluffy socks and scomfy hoodie getting on with my work, I must admit to feeling a little bit pleased.

Time for another mug of Ovaltine and some TLC.

Ooooh abs, there you are . . .

Hellooo abs, so long trainers . . .

I haven't been running for a while, well, when I say running, I mean running regularly. There's been snow, and some more snow, it's dark, a slight knee injury, a crazily busy few weeks and here I am confessing my sins, on my running blog.  Confessing that I've hardly run for a good three weeks, unintentionally of course.

Winter
Let me start by pointing the finger at 'Winter', god damn you.  What with your dark nights and snow, menacing dark shadows and icy patches all set to bring down any runner who hasn't the fortitude of Bear Grylls.

I don't have the fortitude of Bear Grylls it has to be said, but I'm not one to give up, more like a dog with a bone, which is not flattering to any woman but I'm not brave in the dark, on my own. I'm very fond of running in groups and with my buddy. Just not running on my own in the dark. Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of who else might be in it. Having a day job in the Winter doesn't provide an awful lot of daylight hours to run in, if I'm going it alone, as I leave the house at 8 and get home at 6.30 ish.

Monday is Running Club Night
But, there is the running club I hear you cry.  Yes there is the running club, and I did go last week, gingerly but I'll come back to that. I've been pretty busy these last few weeks. With a hypno business evening on a Monday, then the snow stopped play the following Monday, and then I'd gone elsewhere to play in the snow the Monday after that and that leaves me to last Monday, where I did a baby run/jog/walk ish thing.

Generally I run with the club on Monday's and haven't ventured to other running club days, which is all part of the plan this year, but have yet to materialise. I'm a little nervous you see, as there will be what I refer to as  'proper runners', you know the sort, lean and fast and don't need use Chinese Foot binding skills to keep their boobs in one place. Those types of runners.  I know I'm putting barriers up, so it'll be time to get some self hypnosis going on that little mental block.

parkrun
So there, I can abdicate responsibility for Monday's running night and not running in the dark. But what about 'parkrun' surely you've been doing parkrun. Sheepish look from under the eyelashes. No I haven't been doing parkrun either, shame spreading now. But . . . I have very good excuses for not doing parkrun as well.  First week missed: I had a work conference in Telford on a Friday night and didn't get home until the afternoon; second week missed: we had snow, and we all know that snow brings the UK to a standstill. And I didn't go and the reason for this was I was off on holiday the following Saturday, Skiing.  And not having had a decent holiday for at least three years I didn't want to risk a slip that might result in a twisted ankle or knee that would put a stop to a week of Skiing. Then of course I was skiing, another two Saturday's passed and the Saturday just gone I've been presenting at a Wellness Convention.

So it's been an absolute age since I've run, parkrun.  But I am hoping to run next Saturday's parkrun. And I say hoping as I brought back from my ski holiday, not a young Bulgarian husband, but a knee injury.  Nothing major, but my knee joint lets me know in no uncertain terms that it's not especially happy going up and down stairs (but this is intermittent), not very keen on slopes up and down, but very happy to go backwards and forwards.

So with some slight twinges here and there on my knee I figured that perhaps I should listen to my body and let my knee rest this week. I have a particularly hectic week this week anyway so it seems it would fit well to rest up and get ready for parkrun.

The Wellness Convention
So I was lucky enough to present at the Wellness Convention discussing how the mind can influence our health with the aid of hypnotherapy, and in between consultations I booked myself onto a Stability Ball class. Phew it's been even longer since I went to Pilate's, what with studying, clients, running and the day job. I just couldn't do it all.  It's been at least six months, at least.  So Pilate's on a ball, how hard can it be? Well let me tell you I feel like I've had my abs sliced with a Stanley knife, numerous times, while being chased through a slasher horror movie. So that's where my abs are! I remember now, the pain that comes from what appears to be, not doing very much. And I have a certain smugness about the pain emanating from my stomach region, as this means that I've worked those muscles, and worked them hard. So thanks to Marie-Claire Prettyman for putting together the convention and giving me the opportunity to speak, and to Tanya Dominey, who helped me ruin my abs.

As Pilate's is on my menu this year to improving my running and my strength, I've proved to myself just how much I need it.

So my knee hurts a bit in certain situations, my abs hurt like hell, but I am still very excited about getting out running again.  So I'll enjoy the rest, book up my Pilate's sessions and get ready for Southampton parkrun. Trainers watch out, you're going to get a pounding. And here's to hoping I'm not going to wobble like some of the men in the video for Lets Get Physical?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWz9VN40nCA

Eight months until birth

Eight months. Phew. Eight months doesn't sound like a very long time at all thirty six weeks somehow seems even less time and 252 days, well isn't it about 252 days that a full time worker puts in for a full working year. 6048 hours, 362,880 minutes.

Not very long then, not very long at all.

So I've already started planning. I've already pulled together an Excel spreadsheet, with weeks and days, what I'd like to have achieved each week and each month. Record what I've actually achieved such is the focus on achieving my biggest challenge to date.

The Bournemouth Half Marathon.

There must surely be some wiring gone awry in my brain. For after The Great South Run I suffered with terrible, pestiferous cold sores, it was like the Black Death, honestly I'm not exaggerating, followed by a big emotional trauma, followed by a week of being ill (I've not been that poorly in over 20 years), followed by more cold sores although not to the Black Death standard, then enduring the festive season and all the parties that go with that and then at some point in the last week or so I start to feel a bit better.  Now as much as I'd like to blame it all on The Great South Run that would be churlish and abdicating any responsibility for my health. So it must definately be a wiring issue.

Hence all the planning, well in advance, perhaps, some might say a little OCD? But in October my goal is to run The Bournemouth Half Marathon in just about 2 hours. Mmm, maybe I should ask my GP for a CAT scan? The Great South took me 2:17, there was a little break to powder my nose and I don't mean with artificial stimulants, so I reckon taking that little stop it would have been 2:12 give or take a few seconds. And now I've decided I'd like to run even further, in less time, definately need that CAT scan.

My training plan this year will be vastly different to last year. Last year's training plan, was a bit 'Forest Gump', keep on running and running until your legs stop working or you keel over.  I didn't do either of those so I know I can do the distance I'd like to do it with a bit more panache. Whether or not you can run with panache is questionable. The plan this year includes a healthier eating plan, pilates, interval training, long distance runs and also lots, lots more work on my mental attitude using hypnosis.

The training starts early Feb and in the mean time I'm enjoying running, pushing myself that little bit harder, reducing my times, and just enjoying running for running's sake.

So onwards to the birth of my new improved running style with panache, and faster, and using hypnosis. Perhaps I could be the Audrey Hepburn of running. Mmmm, now where is that number for my GP.