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The Challenge Is On!

It’s on like donkey Kong. Well, actually it has been since the 9th October. It’s just that life has got in the way a little. So, a new blog. to document my journey over 12 months of trying to achieve what many would see as an impossible task.

To qualify for good for age for London Marathon. Sub 3:45. Now for the speedsters, the natural runners amongst us, this is more than achievable. For me, it means taking a wholesome 1 hour 25 minutes off my current marathon PB. Admittedly Berlin Marathon, my second of 2017 did not go to plan. That’s a story for another time. But there it is, it’s still personal best. It does mean however, planning the next year around clever training, juggling work, children, the ups and downs (literally) of type 1 diabetes and life in general.

Why would you do this? I hear you cry. Another rejection in the London Marathon ballot. The odds are very rarely in your favour due to the popularity of it. It doesn’t stop there. If you want to run the Abbot World Marathon majors (which I do – two down), well you’ve more chance to do so, being good for age. Ballots do not like me, and no amount of positive or wishful thinking have ever given me a chance in them. But also, stubbornness. Pride. An opportunity to prove the doubters wrong and show that if you want it bad enough, you can achieve it. Or at least get close enough to say you’ve given it everything.

Doubt and restrictions set by others kills more dreams than failure from trying ever would.

Official training for Paris begins the beginning of December. It will be very different to my previous two marathon training cycles, and I shall of course be sharing as much as possible. Right now, its crack on with trying to be in the best place possible to begin a high mileage training cycle.

So there it is. This is what it is. Hopefully an honest and upfront account of my journey to Good for Age. The ins and outs of training, and results. It’s going to be a roller coaster, no doubt about it.

 

 

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Popping My Ultra Cherry

So it’s happened. I am an ultramarathoner! I completed Race To The Tower. And what an epic, life affirming journey it was. So epic, I needed to calm myself down a little writing this piece for fear of turning into George R R Martin and creating a biblical sized novel.

I am still incredibly sore, 2 days post Ultra, beyond tired but I’m bursting with pride. I’m incredibly happy, in the best way.

I had to rely on a lift to get to the start line, in Stroud. My mother kindly offered. She drives like a mole, and was more worried about coffee stops than getting there. She took a wrong turn and sent us 15 minutes down the motorway in the wrong direction. Typical. She also doesn’t get running. Although she did kindly say she would be proud if I did three miles. Thanks mum. Still, we managed to arrive at the start with 25 minutes to spare before the off. Quick pee stop, start line selfies with some of the wonderful Instagram crew I did manage to spot and it was get to the start line for the warm up. I didn’t warm up. They make me cringe. Instead I babbled to two familiar faces, who I was lucky enough to bump into. This calmed the pre race nerves…. a little. I still felt like my stomach was in my mouth.

8am- let’s go! And it’s off. The first few miles flew by, finding a rhythm, trying to slow my breathing down. Nerves soon vanished. I’ll be honest I think they vanished at the very first gate (number one of 160) hearing everyone gigging and in high spirits waiting to go through.

The course was beautiful. Really stunning. But I soon realised that although I train on hills frequently, living where I do (I struggle to find a flat route) it hadn’t been enough. These hills along the Cotswold way were monsters. As I was trying my best to power walk up them, I made a mental note… you need to practice hiking more.

Pit stops 1, 2 and 3 flew by. I didn’t hang around long. Topped up the water bottles, grabbed some fruit (the watermelon was absolutely amazing) and snacky bits. My plan was to grab stuff I could eat on the go. Just walk for a while, whilst chomping on something to try not to lose any time. I do actually think I spent a fair few miles with salt and vinegar crisps getting shoved in my mouth, or annoying everyone around me with the jostle of crisps rattling in a bag clasped in my hand whilst I ran. Those and freddo frogs. Freddo frogs are a little less intrusive on eardrums!

After pit stop 3 it went downhill a little. Almost straight away, there was a ridiculously steep incline through some woods, around mile 18. It was single track and no where to escape to let anyone pass, so it was keep up or pass out! That hurt. I then fell, just being clumsy. I was too busy looking at the views. Bang. Down like a sack of spuds. I managed to take a chunk out of my hand and give myself a pretty impressive graze on my leg! Still, I thought, keep moving forward. My tummy started playing up a couple of miles later. Poo gate. I was begging for a secluded spot. None to be found. It was buttocks firmly clenched, and hang on for dear life until pitstop 4, halfway. I’m being honest…. toilet troubles and all. To add to matters, the final mile climb into pitstop 4 I had a huge hypo (low blood sugar) where I dropped down to 2.1. Trying to still move forward, whilst trying to ram jelly babies, dextrose and freddos down my chops, whilst trying not to shit my pants. Is this what Ultra running is all about?

Halfway, a marathon done. Once I had found solace in a portaloo, I didn’t stop for any of the wonderful ‘real food’ on offer. Instead I made myself a peanut butter and chocolate spread sandwich to eat on the go, and quickly drained a cup of flat coke. Which was amazing!

The poo and junk food worked wonders, soon I was flying along again, feeling really good. Positive and full of energy. The next part seemed to fly by again, the hills continued, I slowed, I found bits of energy. It’s so easy to be distracted by beautiful scenery. It helped. Pit stop 5 through a farm was great, more bread and flat Coke! Keep on moving.

Pit stop 6 (38.4 Miles in) and I realised I was starting to struggle. Emotionally more than anything. I felt tired and was hurting. I honestly had a good 5 minutes where I don’t know what happened but it felt like I could keep on crying forever. I was just overcome with emotion. I thought about my little boy. I thought about how 12 years ago to the day I had last held him. I thought about my babies who would be there for me at the finish. Emotional bloody rollercoaster. I guess that’s what ultras do. They bring it out, there’s no where to hide when it’s just you and your thoughts, your struggles. Thankfully I was inundated by virtual support from Instagram. I don’t think I could of done it without that. Just message upon message from people who had my back, urging me on, supporting me. Messages from my husband, willing me on. Thank god for 4g! I managed to get a grip. Slightly. I started admiring random trees and cows. There were some pretty impressive trees and cows.

44 miles in, the wheels came off completely. Blisters. All around the insides of my heels. I carried on for a couple of miles before deciding to stop, pop and cover. It didn’t offer any relief. I was down to a shuffle, at best. I didn’t feel too bad, but my god those blisters. Because I was down to a shuffle everything just started ceasing up. Pit stop 7 I could’ve quit. Only 5 miles to go. Only.

They were the longest miles I’ve ever known. It got dark, I overheard someone say that the last 10 gates were all up the horrific hill to the finish. The last mile. Running through the beautiful village of Broadway before this, did lift my spirits immensely! A beautiful evening, and beautiful pubs and houses. People cheering and clapping as we went past shouting encouragement. There was a huge part of me that just wanted to stop. Go and sit outside in a beautiful place and have cold cider. It sounded like heaven in my head.

I was met near the top of the evil hill that I was practically crawling up, by my eldest two children, and my husband. They came down with little lights shining. They looked like angels to me. Just gone 11pm, I finished by running over the finish line holding hands with them, my daughter then placing my medal around my neck. The flood of emotion that came out then was on another level. I’m pretty sure I could’ve filled both my soft flasks with tears.

I got really cold almost immediately and couldn’t stop shaking whilst my husband took my trainers off, and helped me into warm clothes. I felt really ropey. And yes, I was that person. I begged him to take me straight to McDonalds. Whilst sat waiting in drive through, any fluid left in me came out into a Tesco carrier bag. I’ve never professed to be classy!

I learnt a great deal from my first ultra. I do think that until you’ve actually done one, you just don’t know. It’s the unknown. You don’t know how your body will react, you don’t know if you’ve done the right training, if you’ve got everything dialled in. I certainly didn’t. I ballsed up my hydration from the start. I had one flask of water, one with electrolytes. Once I had finished these, I for some reason decided to stick to water only. This came at a price. The most important thing I think you can do is get that hydration and nutrition spot on in your training, and stick to it. I had two hypos in all, and would of been much more stable if I had paid attention to what I was consuming.

Kit wise, I was really comfortable. Blisters not so much. Again I should of dealt with them much earlier. I also forgot compeed. I took far too much. For an event such as one the Threshold series, where everything is catered for at extremely regular intervals, the route extremely well marked out, you don’t need to pack a picnic for the start as I did, or for the eventuality that you will be lost in the wilderness for days on end. I never touched my spare socks/shorts. I guess I would’ve if I hadn’t come across the portaloo

7800ft of elevation, 160 gates and styles, and relentless sunshine. Blisters, hypos, poo gate, and all that was in between. I just wanted to finish it. 10 weeks of training, the majority of which were super cautious to avoid the injury returning and I managed it. I made a lot of rookie mistake, but that’s the way to learn. My first ultra has stolen my heart. I’ve found something that I truly love to do. And I cannot wait to continue learning, and do it all over again!

Ultramarathon Playlist

“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain” Bob Marley.

Music often takes us away, distracts us, ignites passion and evoke memories. Sometimes even a pain in the backside, when you get an “ear worm” that gets stuck in your head all day.

With the ultra coming up this week, taper tantrum/wobbles are in full swing. Whilst running, I tend to listen to a variety of music (for long runs and easy runs usually it’s a good audiobook or podcast which I shall share on another post) My tastes can vary anywhere between Dolly Parton and S Club 7 to full on make your ears bleed Slipknot, and all that is in between. I have my favourites artists and bands, but I like variety. After all, isn’t that the spice of life. So I started thinking about the lonely stretches that may arise, the times during this Ultra where I may need a bit of distraction, some motivating music maybe? I’m not normally one for listening to music during races, I enjoy the atmosphere and ear wigging on random conversations people have. But a back up plan whilst stepping into the unknown this weekend is never a bad thing. So, naturally I turned to fellow runners on Instagram, and asked for their favourite running tracks. You did not disappoint!

You can find the list here

https://open.spotify.com/user/kelruck/playlist/7CGC29BMlLFIG39bnFeNaa?si=u8t5PebCTq-344JT46a2rQ

Some great tracks to add to any running playlist. I’m hoping that Bob is right, and this will help me along. What do you think? Do let me know if there are any that are missing and should be on there.

Crash Course Ultra Training

The last few weeks have been a flurry of all the sunshine, easy runs, cranking out a marathon as part of standard training (who even knew) and embracing hills as much as I embrace my coffee.

April saw the return from injury. Finally. Which meant keeping pretty much every run to an easy pace. One which was a lot slower than pre injury. I found it pretty tough, knowing that my first Ultra would soon be creeping up. It required patience and perseverance just getting my legs back in to running. Everything seemed off, from breathing to just feeling awkward. Pretty much, like starting all over again. Seeing what I should be doing to prepare for a double marathon and what I was actually doing was a little nerve wracking. But I stuck with it, complimenting those easy runs with lots of strength training and tlc in the stretching and rolling department.

Then I signed up to a local trail marathon. Please note, that I am telling you what I did do, which is most likely, totally not advisable.

13th May I completed the trail marathon in 5:18 hours. The longest run I had plodded before this was 6 miles (post injury) it was a huge risk, I could of come away with injury again. My aim was to just spend time on my feet, with a mixture of walk/running. Trying to suss out a tactic for how I would approach the ultra. It worked. I walked the huge hills (probably more crawled the last) and just kept moving forward. It was an incredibly difficult day for it, high temperatures and no escape from the blazing sun. It was also a 4 lap course, with abandoned aid stations after the first lap, and not another soul to be seen. Even when I finally crossed the finish line there was nothing. The whole event (which had a nice number enter the 10k option – the first lap) had been taken down. No finish line, nothing. One person, sat on a chair by a timing mat, waiting for my return. I cannot tell you how soul destroying that was. Aside from my views of how shocking the whole event was, it served its purpose and probably helped a huge deal with mental preparation. Yes humming the wheels on the bus did help.

I actually felt amazing on the days that followed and happily eased back into more easy miles. I don’t know if it was the easy pace, or the numerous Epsom salt baths and my new found love of Oofos recovery shoes but it was all good.

The second long run of 24 miles followed that week. Again, super easy. I walked, I ran, and I stopped at a shop to have a lolly in the stupidly hot weather. I enjoyed this much more than the marathon. But running along the River Wye in beautiful surroundings on such a beautiful day certainly contributed to it. I have a new love for Ultra training long runs as opposed to marathon training. No paces to hit, no slogging out a long run. Just time on feet, taking it all in. No pressure.

I did feel the results of these two weeks with my energy levels taking a huge dent. I ran an appalling trail race a few days after this run. Just couldn’t get going, completely out of puff. The hills most definitely ruined me that day. The recovery beer helped take the edge off any bad feelings about that though.

The last long run before taper, of 14 miles again was a completely different story. Most enjoyable until mile 10, energy levels had returned. The last 4 miles of all the uphill Home, and a huge thunder storm made me drop any easy pace and pelt it. A lot more strenuous than it should of been!

Now it’s less than two weeks to go until Race To The Tower, and that has been the extent of my training. 3 weeks of 30-39 miles, far lower than I would of wanted. But time on feet spent, different weather conditions and making sure that almost every one has included huge hills. I don’t know how it’ll all fare come 9th June. But I know I’ve done as much as I can without being completely ridiculous, I’ve come through without injury, I’m feeing stronger and I’ve recovered well.

I also know that time isn’t an issue for me. I’m not racing it, I’m not wanting to be a super speedy speed machine. The reason I entered Race to The Tower, is because it’s the 12th anniversary of my son passing away. The last day I held him. I struggle every year around this time. So to spend time doing the thing I love, the thing that helps me mentally, remembering him whilst challenging myself in beautiful surroundings…. for me, that is what my first ultra is all about.

All That Is Good

The last week has been amazing in so many ways. I have been more than quiet on the blog front, and I’ll be honest, continuous injury lead me to a horrible place. One where I was fighting daily to make something work, that wasn’t going to work. I was so desperate to make the marathon start line that I kept pushing, putting pressure on myself and my body that wasn’t needed and only had a detrimental effect. Which leads me to the start of the week. The moment of clarity.

I finally decided (a week out) that I would withdraw from the marathon. The decision came after what should of been a wonderful Easter trail run on the Saturday with fellow Asics Frontrunners, which ended up with me hobbling back after a mile. If I couldn’t run a mile, even going super easy for 26.2 would have been disastrous. I cannot even begin to describe the instant relief. The weight that I felt lifted from my shoulders. I had made myself so unhappy for weeks on end, that when the relief came from choosing to withdraw I realised the decision should have been made much sooner. It is an incredibly hard decision to make, when you’ve trained for, and been geared for that single event. Eventually (a little late) I realised that the first marathon was not my goal this year. A summer of doing my first ultras and going for GFA in Chicago Marathon IS my goal. It came down to looking at the bigger picture. I’ll be honest. Just to run carefree and pain free is something I had taken for granted, and something I desperately need back in my life for mental and physical happiness. There are plenty more marathons in the sea! On a little side note I did however, learn a whole array of useful cross training and strengthening work, which I shall detail at a later date.

It was also my birthday. A wonderful day spent with my family, which also saw the return of proper pain free 2.5 miles. Albeit incredibly cautious and unfit miles, but they felt wonderful. No pressure. Just go out and plod. Another 4 miles on Friday and a wonderful bit of fun Parkrun tourism with friends (the beautiful Ashton Court) chatting, giggling and messing about in puddles and the miles are creeping in.

Then Manchester Marathon. Cheering duties. A wonderful night and day spent with fantastic company, and being totally inspired by the wonderful runners. If you ever need a huge dose of positivity, to see determination and grit working across all types of runners, please do go support a marathon. Any race. If you can’t run it, support it. You never know just how much you may help someone, how you may just distract or encourage with 25 miles of pain behind them, the final agonising stretch so close, yet so far. I had wonderful hugs with many of the Instagram runners. All wonderfully inspiring, and such a pleasure to see! There were two who stuck with me for different reasons, and reiterated all that is good about running. The two Dans. I managed to catch Danny O’Reilly twice on the course (@the_running_dan https://www.instagram.com/the_running_dan) who was officially pacing a group of 3:30 runners. Brimming with positive energy, and making it look effortless, he stormed by with his pack all smiles. The type of running that made me want to hop in and join. If a pacer can make you believe you can stick with him, he’s the man! The second, Dan Cogswell (@the_marathon_dan https://www.instagram.com/the_marathon_dan) who’s face lit up when he spotted us, with a mile left to go. It was one of those hugs where you knew he was battling, he was giving it everything, he was hurting, but he was smiling….and that’s when it really hit home how much support is valued. Such a special moment, and actually really emotional.

It’s the start of a brand new week, and another new chapter for me. The start of working with the wonderful Team Project Run https://www.teamprojectrun.com who have already been extremely welcoming and positive. I’ve never used a coach before. After the fiasco of the start of this year, and with such a huge amount still left for the year, I’m trusting my training to the watchful eye of a coach. Hopefully safely tucked underneath a guiding wing, good things will start to happen in preparation for Race to The Tower and Race to The Stones, and even more so for Chicago marathon 😊.

So there it is, a brief (ish) round up. Normal service will now resume.

There’s Always Room To Dream

The last week has been an unbelievable whirlwind. The kind of week where when I think about it, I do a little head shake in disbelief.

Take it back to January. ASICS opened their 2018 frontrunner applications to find new members to join their existing inspirational frontrunners. Of course, I applied. How could I not. I remember submitting my application, shaking. I really wanted this. I really wanted to be part of such a positive, encouraging network of people. I wanted to be inspiring, like the frontrunners I had followed and watched as their journeys progressed. Immediately I tried to forget about it. As the days and weeks passed I could see so many wonderful people from all backgrounds had applied. So many others wanted the opportunity just as much as I did.

Imagine my complete shock when I received an email to say I had been successful. Out of 4600 applications, I had been chosen as one of the 26 new members. I screamed, I read the email over and over. My eldest daughter squealed in delight as I read it to her. She squeezed me with an almighty bear hug around the waist, her face completely lit up and told me she was so proud of me. My husband was proud of me. The youngest two, just wanted a treat, trying to take advantage of the excitement!

I’ve never thought of myself as inspirational. I’ve never really thought of myself as anything other than just getting on with it, sharing as I go. Maybe encouraging. I will always try and encourage anyone to just try. Try it once. Try it twice… just to make sure. I’m ridiculously positive. I do know that. I truly believe that there is a positive in everything if you look for it. I’ve been through some almighty soul crushing moments in my life. I’ve lost a child, something no mother should ever experience. I have a serious condition which has the potential to be life threatening on a daily basis, and will no doubt lead to life changing complications in my old age. I’ve made mistakes left, right and centre…. but generally I learn from them. Even whilst doing the three peaks challenge solo and breaking my wrist on the first mountain, I still remained positive, and managed to still complete the challenge in 22 hours before heading to A&E. I wouldn’t advise climbing Snowdon in the dark solo with a broken wrist however.

I’m relatively new to running. Two years. I didn’t really start taking it more seriously until last year even, when I stared training for London Marathon! But I’ve been hooked since. I love everything about it, I love learning about it, expanding my knowledge, learning from others, sharing with others. And whilst I was sat in a conference room in Birmingham this weekend, meeting fellow ASICS frontrunner team members for the first time, I realised this was just what this team meant. People from all walks of life here to share, encourage and promote running. Not just for frontrunners, but for anyone. Everyone. It was an exhilarating feeling being surrounded by so many motivational, inspirational people. Not one of us were the same. We all have something different to offer. There may be similarities, some of us like marathons, some ultras. Some triathlons, some a bit of everything. New runners, experienced. Old and young. But we are all individual. A diverse group bringing our individuality together, to get moving. To encourage. To support.

I left Birmingham, happy. Invigorated. I left feeling part of something special. I am beyond excited to see where my journey goes this year. And yes, I’m still going for that GFA. That’s my goal, because I don’t like being told I can’t achieve something. No one should ever listen to that.

“Don’t limit your challenges, challenge your limits”

A Positive February Flop

Well, the last three weeks (pretty much the whole of February) hasn’t gone to plan. Very much off plan. Plan, has not been life.

The wheels first came off with a hip niggle that was fine to run with, until I took part in another trail night race. Although a fantastic race, the uneven ground, mud, tree roots and almost waist high ‘water features’ left me a hobbling mess. To be precise, running across a field with a severe camber…. really finished me off. Unfortunately this was at the beginning of the race, which left 5 miles of hobble. I’ve no doubt this would of been fine had I not had the underlying hip niggle. Lesson learned. Don’t tough it out.

To add insult to injury I then developed a horrible ‘flu type virus’ that absolutely wiped me out for the best part of two weeks. Joint aches and pains, and absolute exhaustion. Horrible.

Not quite over any of the above I then decided it would be a great idea to tough it out at Llanelli half marathon. I’d heard it was such a lovely route, along the coast, nice and flat. Part of me maybe even thought I could sweat out the remaining bit of flu. In case you haven’t realised by now, my great ideas are normally ridiculously stupid. It was the most painful race I’ve ever run, and that’s saying something after my horrid London Marathon last year. The first few miles flew by, but then it hit me. Every bit of me screamed and hurt. The big flu telling me I’m a fool. The hip, groin and quad all telling me I’m a dick, and this is payback. Run, walk or crawl resonated in my head….. the crawling so appealing. As it was, it was a slug shuffle at best to a 2:08:55 finish.

There is something about ‘runners’ that will keep us from admitting to ourselves that we need to slow down. We need to take care of ourselves. We will hit the training sessions hard, give it all. Obsess over plans, paces. Do all the research, how do I become faster, how can I go further, how can I get stronger? Yet when injury or illness comes knocking on the door, we try to fight it. Work around it, just keep on going. We very rarely, listen. One of the hardest parts is acknowledging and accepting there is a problem. That actually, you need to take a step back. For me, admitting there is a problem has meant admitting there’s a weakness. That I’m failing. Who likes to say that out loud? In fact, who wants to admit they may not be able to run for a while?

But by acknowledging a problem before it explodes, you can take positive steps to correct it. Accepting you have a problem, gives you a priceless peace of mind. There’s an issue, but it’s ok! We are all works in progress, from the runner just starting out to seasoned ultra marathoners. It would be a very rare thing to find a person immune to injury and illness. It happens. It’s normal. I’ve tried to retain a positive attitude during the last few weeks, and done my best to be proactive once I realised that I had to stop. I’ve done the resting, the cross training, all of the stretching and strengthening that was lacking previously. I’ve visited the sports therapist, and necked vitamins. I’ve stayed away from Dr Google (once a professional had informed me of the problem…..before that I was most definitely heading for a chopped off leg) Just tried to be patient and ride it out. I’ve accepted that this is a big dent in the marathon training, and that actually I will need to adapt my goals for the 8th April. 6 weeks to go and I’m just happy to be able to do a few miles. To be able to build up some base mileage again, whilst paying attention to my body. Hopefully normal service has resumed. If not, well I’ll keep working at it until it has.

So here’s to running, run happy, run short, run long…..but most of all listen to that body of yours.

Don’t expect it to be perfect. It won’t be.

Marathon plans. You write them, colour code them, print them. Dutifully tick off training sessions, swap them around, do everything in your power to not miss a session…. because we all know when you do, the feelings of guilt and failure come in. Which in itself is ridiculous, missing a few sessions will not ruin the rest of the hard work! There’s something about a ‘plan’ that means even when a leg is hanging off, or you can’t move your head without a needing a whole pack of Kleenex shoved up your nose, you will still try and stick to it. But reality Is, that I know of no one who hits every session, who has had the smooth perfect training cycle for a marathon. There are far to many external factors, there’s life. And doesn’t that like to throw a spanner in the works!

Week 4

Well the luck bucket seemed to have half emptied for the last two weeks of training. Not so much running wise, that’s been pretty good, apart from the standard tired legs.

Week 4 was supposed to end in a half marathon race plus a bit extra to make up my long run. Since most of my long runs are solo affairs, I’ve booked events with the aim of going steady and at least having some company to break up those long slogs. The event was the Windsor winter half marathon, held by F3 events at Dorney Lake, a 2 hour 30 minute drive from me, but hey…. would be worth it for a ‘flat and fast course’ and a bit of bling.

Well that wasn’t to be. After dutifully doing my bit and driving to the event, I was then met with a huge queue of traffic. Standstill less than 2 miles from the car park. As race time approached I realised it would be touch and go if I would make it! Then I received a message to say the half marathon had been cancelled and downgraded to a 5k or 10k. I was sat stuck in traffic to get into a car park of a cancelled event. Wonderful. As the original race time came and went I turned the car around, with a fair few choice words and began the long trudge Home. By the time I got home I was tired. A near enough 6 hour round trip (thanks to weather and traffic) a Burger King stop and numerous costas weighed heavy! Still, there was a long run to do, so I headed straight out to get it done before I could think about how much I wanted the sofa and comfy clothes!! 16.5 miles later, soaked to the bone the job was done. And actually the rubbish fuelling and lengthy car journey didn’t have too much of an impact. Mentally it was tough.

Week 4 total – 43 miles

Week 5

Pretty uneventful…. until again, the long run curse! First of I’ve broken my hydration pack. To be fair, for only a cheap one it’s done it’s fair share of work. I’m currently researching hydration vests before making another purchase, and will be sure to share the results. So the eve of my long run I decided I would stick to 4.5 mile loops, which went past my house. That way, I could create my own little aid station, therefor saving having to carry a cumbersome water bottle. Friday came, and it was set perfect for my long run…. glorious weather, the older two at school and the toddler at nanny’s for a good few hours. Friday was my day, a weekend of night shifts approaching and the last thing I wanted to squeeze in was a long run on very little sleep. So off I trotted on this perfect day, to come across a dog playing in traffic 4 miles in. I stayed for a while watching it, coaxing it on to the pavement, thinking it would bound into one of the many open gates surrounding me. It didn’t. I started off thinking if I went away it might go in. It didn’t. It just kept picking up twigs and following me on the pavement. Concerned it would start playing chicken with the traffic once more I ran back to the place I had come across it. Still no sign of owner or it wanting to go home. I couldn’t leave it. Luckily I was wearing my spibelt, so off it came to act as a temporary lead in order to take little Houdini back home then to sort finding owners. I didn’t realise quite how much he would pull and my poor Spibelt along with my long run was soon destroyed. It took an hour of waiting outside before pooch was reunited with the most ungrateful owner. Long run ruined, but dog safe and sound. Completely worth it.

On a side note, I had been storying the whole thing on Instagram, and the wonderful people at Spibelt had seen the story, and are sending out a replacement for me! So nice, epic customer service.

Week 5 long run was completed a day later, yesterday. It wasn’t meant to be. I had gotten a few hours sleep following my night shift, had woke up and feasted on cheese scone and coffee before deciding on getting a few miles done. The few miles soon ticked by into 17 miles at an easy pace. I’m thoroughly enjoying catching up on Marathon Talk podcasts at the moment, and I’m sure that contributes to the miles going by when on the longer runs!

Week 5 total – 41 miles

At this point I’m feeling really good with, for me, the high mileage weeks. Whilst training for London Marathon 2017 I ran 100 miles in January. So far this month I have run 171. A huge difference. I was plagued with injuries during London training, never felt quite right. For some strange reason my legs are seemingly loving the higher mileage. I’m not complaining though. Perhaps it’s because I’m more diligent with stretching and strength training. Perhaps because I am sticking with the majority of my miles being easy paced. Whatever it is, long may it continue in February!!