When I started running in 2016, the Bristol 10k was my first ever event and I completed it on a hot day, in 93 minutes of triumph.  Last year, the Bristol 10k became a bit of an obsession and I got a bee in my bonnet about achieving a fast time, which I did helped by Merida, who paced me to 78 minutes and 56 seconds on another overly warm day. There was press interest, interviews in the run up and whilst I should have felt elated upon achieving my goal, I didn’t as I suffered an emotional crash after having run on adrenaline for the preceding weeks running up to the race.

Each year, the Bristol 10k brings me a new challenge and this year was no different. After having not really run for the month preceding the race and deciding only 4 days before to even attempt the run, I was going for a different type of finish this year. I needed to relax my expectations to simply finish in one piece rather than achieve a faster time than last year and not to jeopardise the triathlon which is scheduled for the Bank Holiday weekend. This seems very sensible doesn’t it? Surely only a complete idiot would deviate from this plan……

The problem is that following my Landmarks victory (which is what I am calling it), I really believed that I had cracked the mental battle with running. I CAN run faster than I think and I only need to tell myself this and not walk and I would get faster and faster and one day, who knows, perhaps I could achieve a “fast” time. Husband, who is my most enthusiastic cheerleader, is convinced that I am capable of a sub 70 minute 10k and I began to believe it myself. Genuinely, I do think that one day I will run a sub 70 minute 10k, but let’s be realistic here, it’s not going to be following a month of no real exercise apart from walking and swimming. Only a complete idiot would attempt something like that…

So the morning of the race arrived and I was feeling remarkably relaxed as I had no real or public goal. I told myself that all I needed to do was finish. One of the lovely TMR ladies, MacStar had messaged me a couple of days before to say that she hadn’t done as much running as she’d have liked in the run up to the race either and perhaps we could “meander” (her words) together. I made it very clear that she was not to pace me and could leave me at any point, but she was happy for the company and so I joyously agreed.

Hattie has been preparing for the Bristol 10k like a woman possessed and has been training very hard indeed. We travelled into town together as usual, but we had decided (for the first time ever) NOT to run the race together. I didn’t want to do anything to stop her achieving her desired time and if I had to withdraw for any reason during the race due to UGIDA, then I know she would have stopped to stay with me. This was unthinkable for me and so we agreed that she would run her race (fast) and I would complete mine, hopefully in one piece.

Arriving in the Athletes’ Village on Millenium Square is always exciting and as Husband ran off to join the other speedies in his starters pen, I went to the Mothership that is the “This Mum Runs” stand to meet up with my squad. It was brilliant. There were absolutely hundreds of us and we all completed the warm up together, all wearing our team colours and I was able to help a couple of the first timers try to keep calm and convince them that they CAN run 10k and just enjoy the day. Macstar, Merida, RubyRed (my super glamorous friend who always runs in red lipstick), Captain, everyone was there and it felt a bit like a Christmas party. But then it was time to join our pen and await our start. I had been planning to chase the 75 minute pacer for as long as possible and then hopefully stay ahead of the 80 minute pacer. MacStar could possibly see my brain buzzing and so suggested that we run on our own, which I suspected she thought would help to keep my speed sensible. I happily obliged and we walked on towards the front of the pen, with me keeping half an eye on the 75 minute pacer who was now 20 feet behind me. And then we were off. The most consistent thing I can say about all three 10k races that I have run over the years, is that they have ALL been absolutely boiling. The portway part in particular felt like a volcano and the heat bounced off the tarmac and the sun beat down mercilessly. It was like running in an oven and I am never a very successful runner in the heat. As MacStar and I crossed the start line, I knew that the first kilometre would be faster than it should be as you get swept along with the crowd, but then you need to slow your pace down, especially in hot temperatures. But as I have stated a few times, I am an idiot and this is not what I did. Instead of slowing down, I ramped the pace up, even though MacStar was doing her utmost to reign me in pleading that “you need to slow down” but I couldn’t or at least, I didn’t. I have not got within 90 seconds of my 2017 10k time since last May and yet I ran the first 3k on Sunday this week at a sub 72 minute 10k pace and it was BOILING. This would have been a stretch if I was fully fit, but I was not and so, as you know, I confirm my status as “idiot” once more as at 3k I ran out of steam and also worryingly, began to overheat. My core inside was very, very hot and I felt a bit sick and we still had 2k before the water station. We stopped for a breather (3 minutes worth of a breather) and I instantly knew that my time was not going to happen. I felt ok about it to be honest and all the self imposed pressure instantly evaporated. Whilst I was stopped Hattie ran past me, smacking my bum as she passed! She looked fast and I shouted at her to carry on as she slowed down to see what I was doing and was I ok? I reassured her I was fine and Macstar was with me and then she was gone again. Hattie took 5 minutes off her previous fastest 10k time and she is delighted. She worked hard and deserves it. Well done Hattie.

As we moved towards the 4k mark, I whispered to MacStar that I needed to walk (else I would have fallen over) and so the walking started. Run a bit, walk a bit which continued for the rest of the race. I stripped off my head buff and yellow sweatband as whilst they help mop up sweat, they were also contributing to my heat problem. At the water station, Curly Sue and the LA Blond were Marshalling and so hugs and high fives occurred as MacStar poured an entire bottle of water over my head and neck (I suspect that if you’d been close enough you would have heard a hissing sound much like steam) whilst I drank another bottle. Still I was hot but I was feeling better. We took a further 2 bottles with us and set off for the final 5k. I simply could not run without walking and the heat from the sun was relentless as we trundled through kilometres 5 to 8. Macstar was fantastic and we did finally have the meander and chat we had promised each other as the kilometres went by. I was feeling stupid as I knew that I had caused this situation but nonetheless determined to finish as I wanted the medal and knew that my daughters would be waiting to cheer me at kilometre 9.

As the kilometres passed by the crowd cheered loudly as I had hoped that they would, but I also received some unforeseen support from readers of this blog. 3 people over the course of the race (who all passed me running fast) shouted to say hello and that they were readers of this very blog and they enjoyed it and it had helped them. I loved saying hello to these people and your support really helped me over those final tough miles. Thank you.

As we reached 9k I saw my daughters which always lifts me. Husband was with them and he asked if I was ok, knowing I was hot and almost certainly not, and then quickly communicated that he had been off his pace and had suffered with the heat too.

As we turned into the final straight, I quickly decided that I wanted this to be finished as quickly as possible and promised MacStar that we would go for a sprint finish which we did, but those final 600m were amongst the most painful and excruciating I have ever run.

My final time was 85 minutes, which does include 3 minutes of stopping at 3k so I guess I ran it in 82 minutes. Given that I hadn’t really trained properly and was reliant on my residual fitness built up over a couple of years now, I can’t really complain. I wasn’t sore the next day either which I am also taking as a big win. If I had gone off slower it might have been a different story, but I didn’t. I am an idiot, but an idiot that never stops trying. What I took from Sunday is that you can’t smash every race. Sometimes it just doesn’t happen. Sometimes there will be reasons for this (not properly training in the run up or a ludicrously hot day) and sometimes there won’t. But you must keep trying. Despite promising myself as I ran up the Cumberland basin that I was having next year off and MacStar and I laughing as we noted that the supporters looked like they were having a much better time than we were and promising each other that we wouldn’t torture ourselves like this again next year, within 24 hours of crossing the finish line, I had already signed up for next year and so had MacStar. Runners are all mad.

As we walked back to the TMR stand, which was where I was meeting Husband and daughters, my smile re-appeared as we were greeted by the TeamTMR. Some were ecstatic having got fast times and others were desolate and disappointed. I consoled and congratulated accordingly.

My most immediate feeling I had was not about my time, but of a more practical nature – I was soaking wet. Without even giving it a thought, I pulled my soaking wet T shirt off exposing my sports bra and put on the dry new T shirt that was in the finisher’s pack, which was slightly loose for the first time ever. I didn’t give any consideration to my tummy or bingo wings or being “beach body ready”. What a load of crap that is – if you’re on the beach and you have a body, then you ARE “beach body ready”! The more observant of you will also notice that I am wearing shorts for the first time. I have worried about wearing shorts in public to run in for some time now, but finally took the plunge after Perdita (she has dalmations) suggested that I try the Decathlon shorts as they are long, don’t ride up and so, hopefully, my thighs wouldn’t rub together resulting in the dreaded “chafing”. I don’t think any woman over the age of 13 actually has a real “thigh gap” and so the fear of chafing is a big problem for most normal sized women and is a reason why so many of us are scared to wear shorts. But I did try them and they worked and given the heat, I was very pleased I had freed my legs and was wearing shorts on Sunday. There is no going back for me now, I will be wearing shorts for evermore now. Don’t be afraid to join me.

Bank Holiday weekend I will be wearing a Tri Suit, which is essentially a skintight (genuinely, I can barely breathe in it) lycra all in one shorts and Tshirt suit that you swim, cycle and run in – so as you see, it goes from the sublime to the ridiculous!

I’m not really going to be “match fit” for the Tri either, but I will pace myself much better as this will be a completely different test. I have never cycled the full distance having I’ve only been out on my bike once for a proper ride and the only time I have ever transitioned (which is when you switch from one discipline to the next) from bike to run, my legs buckled underneath me, so it will be a challenge to say the least. But, I am looking forward to it, as ever.  I’m just hoping it won’t be too hot…..

Following the Landmarks Half, I decided to treat myself to a week off as I was knackered and wanted a little break before Tri Training started. I ate what I wanted which seemed to include at least 4 pieces of congratulatory cake (any excuse) and relaxed. It was wonderful and just what I needed.

The following weekend, I went for an 8k running plod (just for fun with no mind of speed) and then the next day took “Shiny Sheena” (yes, I have named my road bike) out for a 13 mile spin. I had been so excited to get out and try my new bike for a couple of weeks and when I finally managed it, she didn’t disappoint. I really like cycling and was able to test the gear I had bought (“all the gear and no idea” describes me down to a tee!”). I went up the Bristol and Bath Cycle Path to the Warmley Tea rooms, (which has a toilet decorated to look like Doctor Who’s TARDIS), I had a cup of tea and then cycled back. Other cyclists waved to me and I felt like I was one of the gang.

The “Tri Mums” (This Mum Runs ladies that do Triathlons) had been enormously supportive with my planned triathlon endeavours and were on hand to help offering advice on gear, outfits, shoes (hooray – yes we need new shoes) and training plans to myself and a couple of other newbie Triers. They recommended that to avoid “chafing” in the bottom area, it was best to wear no underwear under the cycle trousers at all.

Frankly I was horrified. Having just been through the whole underwear/runderwear debacle with the running, it seemed that underwear (or lack of) was now a new feature with cycling. It seems to exercise in 2018, one must be knickerless and enduring a cold tummy. But these ladies know more than me and so I trusted them and followed their advice for the bike ride. They were correct. The padded bum part of cycling trousers did not rub and so I was delighted. Unfortunately the razor like saddle did aggravate my bottom, significantly and I was uncomfortable for a few days.

I will stop now and tell you that my husband has begged me not to put the next bit in this blog as it’s a bit embarrassing and extremely personal. But my blog is a “warts and all” log of my exercise journal and so I must go against his wishes. (Sorry). On the Monday after the cycle, I was horrified to discover that I had an UGIDA . An “Uninvited Guest in the Downstairs Area” as my daughter named it, rather perfectly…..or a hemmaroid.  I was not happy and extremely uncomfortable. Over the counter medicine was doing nothing to rectify the situation and so after a week of panic about not being able to run (it was MUCH too painful) or cycle (absolutely unthinkable) I went to the Doctor. The Doctor was fantastic and, importantly, a runner. I was surprised to find myself in tears as I explained to her (and her two medical students in with her as they all had a good look at the “UGIDA”) that I was desperate to run as I had an upcoming triathlon and so my training plan demanded that I run. Let me tell you, I am not a fan of running, but not being able to run was absolutely hideous and I needed to get the “situation” sorted quickly. Unfortunately, the human body, and mine in particular, doesn’t give two hoots about triathlons or medals and so there was nothing to do but rest and try and recover. The Doctor impressed upon me, in earnest, the need for rest, stating that this is not uncommon in runners and athletes and she wished more people would go and get their “UGIDAs” checked etc.  So as I blinked back the tears, I tried to heed her words and resolved to rest in the hope that this would fix the problem. So I rested. And then rested a bit more. It didn’t get any worse and possibly improved a bit, but it was not happening quick enough for me. I am currently waiting for a referral to come through to have the little blighter removed. I resigned myself to not being able to do the triathlon or run the Bristol 10k, which as you may know, is what I refer to as my “Annual Nemesis” as I usually use this to test if I am improving as a runner. I was gutted about the triathlon but I think if I’d had a choice over which event I would do if I could only do one, I would have chosen the 10k. It’s been a dark couple of weeks and I have felt at times as though I should simply set up a direct debit from my own bank account to Boots as I have desperately tried numerous creams to try and alleviate the symptoms.

I have been very, very down. I have been surprised by how low I have felt to be honest. I have bored my Sisters with updates on “Asswatch” as they’ve tried to help and keep me sane, but not running has been hell.

Hattie has been training with Curly Sue without me and making fantastic progress but I have struggled to go along and watch as it made me feel quite upset not to be running alongside her, sweating as we run up hills or sprinting around Queens Square. One small glimmer of light however, has been that although you can’t run or cycle with an UGIDA, swimming is **virtually recommended** and so at least this was some form of a lifeline. I have practised my front crawl over and over again in the past few weeks and I am confident that it has improved. I can now swim 400m front crawl continously (at Christmas I couldn’t even swim two lengths), which is the required distance for the Sprint Tri, but I am significantly faster if I alternate breaststroke and front crawl. I’ve swum on average 2k a week and it has helped me a bit.

Then last week, in my desperation I went to Boots (again) to see if there was another type of cream that might offer some miracle. I was elated to discover that this new cream made an immediate difference and it was enough of an improvement that this last Wednesday (2 days ago) I felt ok to run home. I hadn’t run for 3 weeks and it felt AMAZING and more importantly, there was no pain. As I ran, the 10k flashed through my brain and so I decided to run for 60 minutes to see if I could. I could indeed run for an hour (imagine if I’d told myself that 2 and half years ago – that after a 3ish week break, I would be able to run for an hour!) and it was clear that although I wasn’t as fit as I had been after the half, (understatement) the swimming had preserved some of my fitness and so the 10k felt possible. I mean, it was going to hurt, but it was possible.

If the 10k is possible then the triathlon should be too if I put my old bike saddle on Sheena, as Merida had suggested….. I’m massively undertrained on the bike now and running out of time so there will be an element of “winging it” but what else is new?!

Therefore, as long as my referral with the hospital doesn’t come through in the next two weeks (highly unlikely) and as long as I am not in pain (most importantly) I have decided that I am going to run the Bristol 10k on Sunday and attempt the Westonbirt Sprint Triathlon in 2 weeks time.

I say this knowing that I might have to withdraw from one or both mid-race if things go wrong or anything “appears”….. but I think for the sake of my sanity that it is worth the risk. Plus…I have already bought a trisuit (well 2 actually…it’s a long story and I couldn’t decide between them) and I NEED the 10k medal to keep my annual collection consistent.

There is a 75 minute pacer at the Bristol 10k (TMR are providing official pacers in the Duracell uniforms this year at 75, 80 and 90 minutes after “Pacergate” in 2017) and 4 weeks ago I would have felt confident at giving this a bash for a sub 75 minute 10k. Sadly I don’t think it’s realistic anymore and so I intend to follow the lovely 75 minute pacer for as long as I can and then try my best to stay ahead of the 80 minute pacer, but I also know that this might not happen. I’ll do my best though and will hopefully have a shiny medal by lunchtime on Sunday. Wish me luck.

Disclaimer **virtually recommended**– not really recommended, more that I bullied the Doctor into admitting that I could swim as long as it didn’t hurt but running and cycling were absolutely prohibited.

Blogs are a bit like buses…you wait for a long time for nothing and then a few come along at once.

My last blog was full of excitement as I looked forward to the big race. Unfortunately, since then, I have experienced what is technically known as a fit of the wobbles. 4 days is a long time in running.

Long runs are essential in a training plan as they prepare your legs for the inevitable long run and let’s be very clear about this, 13.1 miles is a VERY LONG RUN. I have followed my training plan and have done plenty of these over the past few weeks with my long suffering running wife Hattie and although we have managed them, there has always be a caveat which makes me doubt my strength for the task ahead. When Hattie and I set off for a long run, we do slip into a bit of a double act. It’s Hattie’s role to complain bitterly over the first 3k (and for any aspiring runners reading this, thinking about downloading the c25k app – DO IT – but let me tell you that the first 2 miles of any run will always be HIDEOUS and it never changes) and then she is fine. My role as “first 3k cheerleader to Hattie” distracts me from my own misery and so I manage this part of the run a bit better. However, when Hattie hits 8-10k (6 miles) and even 16k (10 miles), genuinely, she is like a train that could go on and on. She has been trying to talk me into a marathon for a while now (I am resisting) but I have no doubts that Hattie could do one and do one in style as she gets stronger the further she runs. However, as much as she starts to hit her groove at 8k, over the past few weeks, the opposite has been the case for me as I have felt neither fresh nor strong after 8 miles. This is alarming me enormously. Will I actually be able to pull an additional 5 miles out of the bag on the day – strongly? Now I know that I will complete the half, because if all else fails then I know I can walk 5 miles, but I want to complete it looking strong and looking like a runner rather than crawling over the finish line.

The second worrying fact is that although we have done quite a few long runs, we haven’t managed any of them without a break – and when I say break, I mean a 5 minute breather waiting for parkrun to start, then another mini-breather waiting to get my barcode scanned before setting off home again. There won’t be any breathers on the day and so I’m worried and feeling under-prepared.

I talked this through yesterday with Hattie and Curly Sue at our coached lunchtime running session through gritted teeth and on the brink of tears (or as much as I could speak in between running up a hill sprinting as fast as I could) and they both calmly reminded me that apparently I felt this way in the fortnight before the Bristol Half Marathon last year.

The two weeks before a half marathon or any longer race are called the “Taper”. This is essentially the “it’s too late to do anything useful now so just keep your legs moving” phase. It is absolutely terrifying and doubly so if you are a bit of a control freak like me. For the past 8 weeks my life has been about training and long runs and now, just as my brain is freaking out and wanting to do as much running as possible, the rules of the taper mean that you must not do a long run. You cannot pull the equivalent of a running “all nighter” to get you through the exam/race. There is nothing more you can do. The next 2 weeks will be about resting, massage, impersonating a camel on the hydration front and eating good food. I will run a 10k this coming weekend and then apart from short runs and a couple of 5ks here and there, there is nothing more to do.

Essentially it’s too late to do anything and I AM FREAKING OUT.

I really, really want to complete the run in less than 3 hours else I will feel like all the extra work I have been doing will be for nothing and as much as I want to enjoy the race, I want to feel like I am progressing. Not enough to try out for the Olympics or anything, but just to be moving along the improvement line in a positive manner. I also don’t want to let Hattie down as she can run faster than me and so I would be very cross with myself if she didn’t get a sub 3 because she was running with me. Additionally I also don’t want to disappoint Curly Sue who has worked so hard on getting us ready and prepared for the start line on the 25^th March.

Husband is also running the London Landmarks Half and he is on for a very strong 13.1 miles indeed. His training has been more consistent that any race he has run previously and frankly some of his times over a 1 kilometre distance have been ridiculous. He is in the first wave and so will set off 40 minutes before I will and so will have quite a wait for me at the end.

So in the middle of my panic, a glimmer of hope. My Fairy Godmother, Merida, sent Hattie and I a message. If you recall, Merida paced me to my fastest ever 10k last year at the Bristol 10k last year and we’ve since become good friends as we discovered we have much in common: gin, champagne, running, children, stupidly busy jobs, and …er gin. (Never underestimate the bonding power of gin).

Merida is running London Landmarks Half for MacMillan Cancer and has raised £600 in sponsorship money. Unfortunately, thanks to a couple of bouts of proper flu (not a heavy cold or “man-flu”, but real “put you in bed for a week, oh my goodness I can’t believe I can be this ill and not be in hospital” flu) her training has not been what she had wanted it to be at all. So she messaged Hattie and I to ask if we would like to have another running buddy on the day? Also to say that if we wanted to run a specific time then she would gladly work out the pacings and run with us/shout at us/encourage us over the line too as she would like to help us achieve our goal. I was with Hattie when the message came in and I think we responded with a loud “WHOOP” and “YES PLEASE”.

So this gives me a very real glimmer of hope in an otherwise dark feeling week. Genuinely I don’t know if I can do a sub 3 hour half marathon and I am not someone who likes to contemplate failure, but I have the best friends and support network and so I will try my best. With both Hattie and Merida shouting at me (in an encouraging manner of course…at least I hope so!) I have the best chance, but ultimately I know it’s down to me. I have to pull it out of the bag on the day.

London Landmarks Half Marathon have released an app to allow participants to be tracked along the route. This is a photo of my race number.

Should you wish to follow and send me telepathic cheers of “come on Claire, run faster” or “Merida, run in front of her holding up a can of premix gin and tonic” or “Hattie, just slap her”, this would all be welcomed.

I may or may not blog again before the big day – it largely depends on my state of mind, which as you can see, is up and down. Whatever happens, I will try to be pleased with my time whatever I get. I will try and I am nothing if not a trier.

Why is it so difficult in December to maintain a healthy approach to life?

Over the course of 2017, on average, I don’t really drink that much alcohol anymore – well not like I used to anyway. Those of you who have only got to know me more recently, won’t really be surprised by that statement, but those who have known me a long time, will probably be quite shocked, but it is true. I might have a bottle of beer on a Friday night and a couple of glasses of wine with Sunday lunch, but on the whole, I don’t really drink that much alcohol. I think that this coupled with all the running has definitely has made it easier to maintain the weight I originally lost when I originally decided to change my life in January 2016.

However, as much as I don’t really drink alcohol when I’m at home now, I definitely DO drink if I go out. But I don’t go out that much generally over the course of the year (sad but true). However, in December, I am out, (“Out Out”, if you’re a Mickey Flanagan fan) most of the month. I dread to think how many bottles of prosecco I have consumed since the 1^st December. Actually, I don’t dread to think…I love it. All the dancing, eating, giggling, eating and drinking is lots of fun and although it’s a bit of a cliché, I love spending time with friends and family at this time of year.

However, all the calories add up and although for the rest of the year the running keeps everything in check, in December it requires a more focussed approach and so I elected to run more and often as well as do a couple of Joe Wicks HIITS (minus the mountain climbers). My running has been a bit hap hazard since the Bristol half marathon and although I have run at least once, usually (but not always) twice a week, this seemed like a good opportunity to re-discover my running “mojo” as well as mix my routine up a bit.

I have signed up for a Sprint triathlon in May next year (400m swim, 24k cycle and a 5k run) and so I need to incorporate some swimming and cycling into my training. I’ve been running now for nearly 2 years and as regular readers will know, I have a complicated relationship with it. I love and loathe it in equal measure and after training for the Bristol half marathon and undertaking a weekly “long” run, I did feel as though I was in danger of becoming bored with it. This was part of my rationale with signing up for a triathlon – it would give me different things to focus on in addition to the running. I’ve also been assured by Merida over a glass or 3 of prosecco, that cycling and swimming will help build general overall fitness and these sports are the natural companions to running. They will also help with the running and make me a better runner? Time will tell.

Not many people know this, but I LOVE swimming and also in a surprising twist to the story, I’m NOT terrible at it. I find it peaceful and I am quite at home in the water. I can swim 400m breaststroke in just under 13 minutes and although I have been assured that this would be a respectable time for the triathlon (and importantly I won’t embarrass myself), it also won’t surprise you to learn that I’m going to learn how to front crawl as it will apparently save my legs, according to Swim Dad. Why take the easy road when there is always a more complicated one to explore as is my motto?! But ultimately, as always, I want to do the best I can and so swimming front crawl is necessary.

2 days before Christmas Eve, I took my daughters to the local swimming baths in an effort to burn off some pre-Christmas excitement. I went with the expectation that I would swim lengths and my girls would “play”, but I was wrong. My daughters spent 30 minutes coaching me and my haphazard front crawl. They sat either end of the swimming pool and explained what I should do in order to achieve good front crawl technique and I practiced swimming between them. They also swam and showed me too. The lifeguard seemed a bit confused and came over to ask what was going on and when I explained, he told me they were doing a good job as my “shark fin” had improved – er ok then?! I felt very proud of my girls and grateful. I managed 250m of front crawl (needing short breathers in between each length) and I was delighted. I’ll be adding this to my list of things to work on for 2018.

But back to the running. I’ve run much more in December than I did in October or November as I have battled to still be able to fit into my Christmas Party dress.

These have included a very enjoyable Harbour Loop with Curly Sue and the LA Blond before we had lunch at a vegetarian restaurant (I’d never eaten in a vegetarian restaurant before – big thumbs up from me) and a This Mum Runs Christmas extravaganza that was planned as a usual Wednesday night run, running down the Bath Road in the rain and freezing cold that saw me hurdle a rat as it ran across the path in front of me (I didn’t know that I could jump that high!) that ended in the pub. I think more people might give running a try if there was a pub at the end of each effort. It would have definitely helped me in the early stages of couch to 5k! I can just hear the woman on the app saying, “well done on completing week 3, now get to the pub and drink a pint of lager…you’ve earnt it”.

However, the highlight of December running calendar (especially in the This Mum Runs annual calendar) is the Weston Super Mare Christmas Cracker. This is a 10k that takes place largely on the beach in Weston. It also happens in fancy dress…..now as a general rule, I am not a fan of fancy dress. In truth I despise it and yet I was doing a good impression of someone who was excited at the prospect of running 6 miles in the sand, dressed as a mouse. (TMR had entered the Group Fancy dress competition under the theme of “Cinderella the Panto” with Merida running as Cinderella, our Captain running as an Ugly Sister and Hattie and I running as mice which would become footmen. We won first prize which was exciting as I don’t usually come first at anything when I run in a race!) It was a very tough run as the sand was unforgiving and it was also very cold, but we giggled and sang carols on the way round. Hattie and I were accompanied by another lady on the run and we were privileged to run with her on her first ever 10k. She did brilliantly and I am sure that she will do more and I also know that she has signed up for the Bristol half marathon next year. She is a runner (even though she doesn’t believe me when I tell her that she is).

Today I ran my last 10k and got my final medal of the year at Westonbirt House. Husband was also competing and I ran with Curly Sue, who is back in full “coach mode” having agreed to train Hattie and I as we work towards the London Landmarks half marathon at the end of March. We survived the Bristol Half but now we want to improve.  The Westonbirt 10k was excellent. I’ve been struggling with a sore throat and chesty cough. I lost my voice for a couple of days this week and my asthma has been tricky so I knew that I wouldn’t get the time I wanted, but did work hard and enjoyed it, well I mostly enjoyed it, as with most runs. My final kilometre was the second fastest of the whole run and very fast for me, which shows me that I can push myself. Curly Sue is going to help me work on this over the next couple of months.

After existing on a diet of cheese and pringles over the last week or so, (what can you do? It’s Christmas after all!) I have elected to really sort my diet out over the next couple of months. If I am to improve as a runner, which I want to do, then I know I will need to try and lose some weight. This means I will need to pay more attention to what I eat. I’m not dieting and you know my feelings on them (they suck) but I’m going to try to eat better in order to build muscle and hopefully shed some fat.  Running is hard, but if you’re heavy, it’s harder and tougher on your joints, so I’m going to try and weigh less. The challenge with this is that long runs make me very hungry indeed so planning will be key. I am sure I will talk about this more as the weeks progress.

Next Wednesday it will be 2 years since I went on my first ever run. So much has changed in my life and so much if this is because I am now a runner. This word no longer scares me. I am a runner.

Next year, I have 1 half marathon in the diary already and I know Hattie and I will do another in the Autumn (we can’t quite decide which one yet) and there will be 10ks, probably quite a few. But also next year there will be a sprint triathlon, swimming (lots of swimming) as well as cycling. This will bring brand new challenges and although these challenges scare me enormously, I am also very excited about them. Being scared is no reason not to give things a go. Imagine if the fear had stopped me downloading that app 2 years ago – where would I be now? What would I look like? What state would my heart be in? But most importantly, I would never have met all my wonderful running friends and let me tell you, running friends are the BEST. If you’re already a runner, keep going – you are doing an awesome job. If you’re not……..come and join our gang. You won’t regret it I promise. I haven’t.

Happy New Year to you.

After I completed the Bristol Half Marathon in September 2017, I stated that I wouldn’t be writing this blog anymore and so it would be wrapped up. So as you are now reading my new blog post, I am sure you are asking yourself, “Why? What’s changed?”

Well….a couple of things.

When I started running in January 2016, it was because I wanted to lose weight and set my daughters a better example. I wanted to do it and knew I needed to do it, but I didn’t know HOW to do it or what to do. In fact I felt pretty hopeless. My sister gave me the confidence to try and gave me the tools to do it whilst supporting me.  This same sister was diagnosed with skin cancer last Summer and has undergone a fairly unpleasant second half to the year whilst she has been prodded and examined by many different doctors and nurses and undergone surgery to remove the cancer. The Macmillan Nurses in particular have been nothing short of spectacular as my sister has wrestled with all manner of things thrown at her.

Sadly I don’t know anyone who had not have their life rocked by cancer by one way or another. This horrifying disease has taken my Grandfather, my Aunt, my favourite Uncle, it’s threatened my cousin, my friend, my Mother in Law and now has my sister in its’ vicious grips. It sucks.

You will notice that the blog that you have read previously has disappeared. I’ve taken it down.

Chunky Runner 41 has been made into a book and will shortly be available to buy. Now I know this seems like a bonkers idea (I promise you, I have wrestled with this much over the past 6 weeks), but there have been nearly 1000 regular readers of this blog over the past 2 years (this has constantly surprised me) and so even if 5% of you decide you would like to buy the book in order to enjoy again and again my efforts as I tried and learned to run, this will raise some money. ALL profits from the book will be donated to MacMillan. This is not to fund my Superhero running leggings habit or gin collection, it is only to raise money so other people can be as well looked after as my sister has been and continues to be.

I have set up a facebook page called “Chunky Runner 41 – Claire Tiley”. If you would like to read my blog in future and/or buy the book, please can you find this page and “like” it as this will be the ONLY way that I will share my blog going forward and as soon as the books arrive from the printers, I will let you know (via the facebook page) when you will be able to buy them.        http://www.facebook.com/chunkyrunner41

It’s a gamble admittedly and I might end with a pile of books that nobody wants, but if the past 2 years of running have taught me anything, it’s that you’ve got to give these things a try. It would make a wonderful Christmas gift for someone who is perhaps thinking about giving running a go in the New Year, or it could be used as a  manual for someone who is training to break the “world’s slowest runner” record.

As well as this, there are a couple of other reasons why I have decided to continue writing:

• Quite a few people have asked me to carry on (which is lovely)
• I’ve missed writing it as I find it quite cathartic
• In 2018, I will be :
  • running at last one (possibly two) more half marathons. The first one (London Landmarks is in March 2018)
  • Participating in a 54 mile bike ride (September 2018)
  • Taking part in a Sprint Triathlon. (May 2018). The triathlon is a 400 metre swim (16 lengths), a 24k bike ride (15 miles) and a 5k run at the end (3 miles).

I am very excited indeed about the triathlon, although slightly anxious about the outfits and extremely worried about the possibility of “doing a Brownlee” over the finish line – with me being the Brownlee about to pass out whilst being dragged over the line, rather than the strong one doing the dragging….

So as you can see, plenty there for me to get stuck into and talk about. I’m quite excited about my planned events for 2018.

But what about the rest of 2017? Well, I’m currently training for a 10k on the 17^th December called the “Christmas Cracker” in Weston-Super-Mare and I’m doing it in fancy dress. I won’t say what the theme is as I’m entering as part of the “This Mum Runs” team and there is fancy dress competition which everyone is taking VERY seriously.  What I can say is that I am going to be running 10k, dressed as a mouse. Here is my outfit.

I don’t know how fast I can run 10k dressed as a mouse (that looks suspiciously like Bungle from Rainbow) but we’ll find out. Sometimes running is a serious business and sometimes it isn’t. Life has felt pretty serious over the past 6 months and so some light relief will be welcome. I’ll let you know how I get on.

Yesterday I ran 13.1 miles. If someone had told me last year, on the day that I downloaded the couch to 5k app that I would go onto run 13.1 miles, I would laughed in their face. But there we are and honestly I can hardly believe it myself, but I have a medal that confirms it. A medal that I am still wearing it today and a medal that I also wore to bed last night.

The fortnight leading up the half marathon was a bit of a head scramble to say the least. Once you have completed your last “long run” a couple of weeks’ before the big day, you are supposed to “taper”. This means that you run much shorter distances to keep your legs moving but the aim is to preserve your energy ahead of the big day. This sounds good in theory, but the reality is that you exist in a state of continual panic that you are not doing enough and will arrive on the start line, not fit enough, not having run enough and basically unprepared.

In the fortnight preceding the Half marathon, I found myself in London for work with an overnight stay. In 2012, as a family, we managed to get Olympics tickets but not to anything in the Olympic Park, which always disappointed me. So I was very excited to finally have the opportunity to run around the Park as I had booked a hotel near to it on purpose. I was only supposed to be running 5k but enjoyed a lovely 7.5k trundle, telling myself that by stopping for numerous selfie stops (the Velodrome, Aquatics Centre, Main Stadium and Hockey park) it was ok to go longer in distance. It was one of the most enjoyable runs I have done for a very long time and I partially wonder if this is because I didn’t try and run fast and just enjoyed the scenery as I peeked through the window of the velodrome and just generally took in the ambience of the arena. It was wonderful. Events are all well and good but it’s important to not fall out of love with the sport. It was important for me to remind myself that I enjoy running (sometimes!!) and that exploring is all part of that enjoyment. I made a mental note to do more of this once the half was completed.

The night before the half marathon I laid my kit out and tried to steady my nerves. I had a sensible tea (Spaghetti Bolognese, old faithful – carbs and protein), drank lots of water and tried to get an early night. Unfortunately, nerves and the combination of drinking too much water, meant that I was out of bed for much of the wee small hours so when the alarm went off at 7am and I crawled out of bed not feeling at all rested or ready to run 13 miles. Frankly I felt nauseous. I was terrified and wondering what on earth had possessed me to believe that I could run 13 miles? I had a little cry to Husband who as usual gave me a wonderfully reassuring pep talk and calmed me down a bit. I also knew I couldn’t let Hattie down whose entire family had travelled down for the weekend to be a loud and supportive cheerleading squad.

Husband was taking daughters to a School’s Orienteering fixture at Ashton Court that started at 10am and then would rush to get back in time to see Hattie and I as we arrived into town for the final 4 miles of the course. There is , at least, one advantage of not being a very fast runner!

As we arrived in the Athlete’s village, Hattie’s Mum accompanied us which meant that we could keep our hoodies on until the very last minute. The conditions were perfect for running being dry, no wind, slightly cloudy and importantly no bright, strength sapping sunshine. However, whilst we were waiting to start and join our pen, it was decidedly chilly so we were grateful for our extra layer. We met up with some other TMR Mums and we chatted and worried together, with the faster ladies going off earlier and then finally it was time to join our “pen”. I was very aware that Hattie had never run a large organised race before and so was careful to stay with her and we worked to keep each other calm. Our whole mental preparation had been around the plan that this was to be “just another training run” but the problem was that a few thousand people seemed to have turned up to accompany us for this training run and it was hard to pretend. However we did our best as we danced to “Sweet Caroline” that was pumped out over the speakers whilst we waited in the pen for the start. I love that song but it seemed slightly surreal to be dancing to it before we started a 13 mile run along with a few thousand other Neil Diamond fans.

The first couple of kilometres were difficult as we got swept along with the crowd and so we ended up going too fast with the first mile being the fastest of the whole run by some considerable margin. Dr Wellababy (a lovely TMR Mum) ran with us for the first 5k which was great and then she was off chasing her own times as it was her first half marathon too. Then it was just Hattie and I. I found the first 3k of the run yesterday quite tough and I still to this very moment, can’t really identify why. We went off very fast (as you always do at an event) and this meant that I couldn’t catch my breath and so chatting was out of the question. It took me quite a while to settle down and much longer than usual. The turn on the Portway also seemed to never arrive and whilst we were cheered and high fived by Marshalls and TMR Mamas who recognised one or both of us in equal measure, and it did help, I really only settled down once we turned to run back towards the City.

It was at this point the magnitude of what we had to do started to hit me. But it was also now that Hattie and I did slip into “training mode” and started to chat. We chatted about what fancy dress outfit we should wear for the 10k Christmas Cracker in December (we think mice from Cinderella, I’ve always fancied a Onesie), our families and how I was sad that Hockey Sister wasn’t able to come and cheer me on due to a prior engagement, all the food we would eat when we finished and how much champagne we would drink (this part of the discussion was long and detailed).  This carried us all the way to the end of the Portway and onto the Cumberland Road, which I had been dreading. But Hattie’s family cheer squad were positioned perfectly which spurred us on a bit more. As we crossed the swing bridge on Princes’ Street I started to anxiously look for Husband and Daughters. Not only because I wanted to see them (and I really, really did), but also because Husband was carrying a fresh headband so I could swap my now sweat-sodden and cold one for a fresh and dry one. But they weren’t there. Hattie tried to reassure me but I started to inwardly panic and this unhappily coincided with the worst part of the course. The final four miles were twisty turns in and around the centre which took you forward, then back on yourself, over cobbles which killed my feet, up hills which I had never realised existed before, then seemingly towards the finish, only to cruelly then send you away again in the opposite direction again. Over the main part of this section, there weren’t too many people watching and so apart from the Marshalls, we were largely on our own. We arrived at a jelly baby station, which Hattie had particularly been looking forward to, only to find that they had run out and additionally to rub salt into the wounds, we had to run through piles discarded jelly babies strewn all over the floor like confetti at a wedding. Unfortunately it seemed that the 3 second rule was probably un-useable and so we ploughed on. I was feeling a bit tearful at the thought of not seeing my family at all over this horrendous section of the run and then suddenly Husband was there. He started running in the opposite direction shouting into his phone “she’s here, I’m coming to you” like he was part of the Secret Service and then as we turned the corner not only were daughters there but Hockey Sister too, who’d been playing a joke on me as I’ve since learnt that she had always planned to come and watch as she’s been a solid supporter of my running efforts since day one. I simultaneously fought back tears of joy whilst as well as gratefully placing a dry headband on my head (which felt so good) I was so chuffed to see them all that suddenly I felt like I could keep going. I didn’t want to walk in front of my daughters and so Hattie and I chugged on.

Unfortunately this positivity was short lived as although my head was once again enthusiastic, my legs were absolutely knackered and it was at this point that even though I had been effectively using the energy gels throughout the run, my stomach started to experience sharp stabbing pains. I could feel that I had a blister on my foot, my “hammer toe” was throbbing, my hips were aching and frankly I was wondering if the twisty turning streets of Bristol would ever take me to the finish line. As we turned near to Baldwin Street, we saw Husband and Daughters again who had now met up with Hattie’s family to make one enormous (and very loud, the Marshalls commented on the volume) big cheer squad but I was struggling BIG TIME. We were now into the last mile and I had had enough but Hattie told me to dig in as we were nearly there. As we hit the final straight there was a sign that said 400 metres to the finish…I was so relieved but it seemed MUCH longer until we could see the finish line. It felt like another kilometre at least. My legs were screaming at me but Hattie took my hand and we crossed the finish line together. I burst into uncontrollable tears as I was overcome with achievement by what we had both accomplished coupled with absolute relief that it was over. As in previous races a St John’s Ambulance Man approached quickly, but once he could see it was emotion rather than pain he wondered off again to leave me sobbing on Hattie’s shoulder.

Although I had only ever wanted to complete the race in one piece, I did have half an eye on completing it in under 3 hours (you know I can’t help myself). I had worked out the split times required and had the times for 5k, 10k and 16k (which is 10 miles) written in biro on my arm (very technical!) so if we got to 10 miles and were on schedule, we knew it was possible so could really give it a final big push over the final stretch. We were on track throughout the whole race right up to 18 kilometres. Yesterday I ran my second ever fastest 5k and 10k time (we were overtaken at about 3 miles the 2 hour and 30 minute pacer which was an indication that we were going MUCH too fast) and then my fastest ever 15k and 16k (which is 10 miles) but at 18 kilometres (11 and a bit miles) the wheels fell off a bit as the course looped back and forth and we seemed to encounter hill after hill and in the end I was glad simply to finish. My final time was 3 hours, 2 minutes and 11 seconds so as you can see, although we weren’t that far off, the last 3 kilometres were awful.

Hattie and I are both running another half marathon in March next year and so now our goal is to run it in less than 3 hours and that’s what we will work towards over the next 6 months. The cheer squad arrived at the end to see us cross the line (now en masse) and we started our party which included champagne in a hot tub, chocolate, and a barbeque in Hattie’s garden.

I’ve always said that my running is a team sport. I might put my feet in front one step at a time, but without the encouragement of my husband and daughters and then Hattie and her family (who were fantastic yesterday) it would never happen.

So what now for me? You’ve journeyed with me from couch to half marathon and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support and encouragement that I have received since January last year. I never thought I would run a half marathon, in fact I never really believed that I would be able to run 5k when I started this and I still have days where I’m not sure I will be able to again when I lace my trainers up.

I wish I had started running before I did and I’m not someone who has regrets. Running has changed my entire outlook on life and it’s changed my family’s life too – all for the better. I was lucky enough to have a sister who believed in me enough to convince me to try to run (whilst feeding me cheese). In case you don’t have the same, I’m here to tell you that you can do it too, because genuinely, and I hope this blog adequately demonstrates that, if I can, anyone can. You’re never too old, unfit, overweight to try. It is hard but that’s no reason not to try it. Believe me. I’m constantly surprised by what my knackered old body can do and I intend to keep challenging it. I will keep running half marathons and 10ks, attending parkrun, leading the This Mum Runs 30 minute runs and will also probably always be near the back but it doesn’t matter.

I started this blog by asking if I would and could ever become a runner? Well the answer to that question is yes – not a fast or record breaking runner for certain, but a social, trundling, happy and occasionally competitive runner.

I definitely am a runner.