Finding my goal

There are three things about me 1. I'm insanely competitive 2. I'm sometimes arrogant and 3. I lack self-confidence. Now at least one of those things may surprise you. Indeed maybe all of them will surprise you and just perhaps you may disagree with my self-assessment. But hey it's my blog! So what have all these things got to do with running? I will of course explain....

It's hard to believe that it's only been just over one year since I ran my first half marathon at Royal Parks and of course after that I entered a bit of a wasteland. Apparently very common when you train for a race. It was the first time I'd had a plan. That I'd set myself a goal and that I'd worked my socks off to achieve the best I could. The same happened after Brighton and London (aided by some intense tiredness) and I've sort of been floating around races and relaxing since then. 

But you'll all be glad to know that a plan is back on the fridge and I'm week 3 in to training for Brighton next year. It's going well and I'm just trying to keep a consistent 13 miles up to Christmas. I want to learn all the lessons from the marathons this year. (I nearly said last year as there is clearly this weird time warp in running that relates to pre and post VLM which changes the year you're in!) So I don't want to over train. To get tired and turn up at Brighton and implode again. But is that enough? Is my goal to turn up and run where I should be aiming? After all I've run Brighton before and have a PB of 4:53:32. And this is where those 3 things about me come in. 

1. I'm insanely competitive. Well at least I used to be. But as I've got older I've learnt actually it doesn't matter. Or does it? And that's the problem. Once a competitor always a competitor and it bubbles around the surface but I squish it like the hideous pus filled spot it is! I don't want to chase times and to be obsessed with beating my PBs. It's hard enough at parkrun knowing I'm nowhere near my PB let alone all races being about that. I'm getting older and it doesn't seem to get any easier. But but but.....

2. I'm sometimes arrogant - yes I know hard to believe but it's true. So of course I believe that actually I should and could beat all my PBs and I should be able to keep up with those younger and fitter than me. And I get insanely jealous and depressed when I can't - so number 1 just gets fed again and again and again. 

3. I lack self-confidence - look I used to be 18 stone, that's not the sign of someone brimming with self-confidence or self-esteem! So when I can't keep up or I find myself at the back or I worry if our Sunday runs are full of the speed demons and no one else then inside I implode. All those memories of being put in left field, or not making the first team or losing at monopoly or scrabble or any other game come back. And it stops being fun. It becomes a mental nightmare. Then I just want to stop and not do it anymore. Which of course is because of number 1 as much as lacking confidence! 

So what do 1, 2 and 3 add up to - well I think there could be a number 4. I know my limits. Which means I should continue doing what I do best - running for fun, running for me and running for selfies. The PBs will still come - my recent 10k PB proves that. I may find the magic formula to stop eating Krispy Kremes and Reeses by Brighton and be super slim, super fit and spurred on by the power of Um Bongo beat last years time. But that's not going to be my goal - and no, that doesn't mean it will secretly be my goal either - my life needs balance and running is my hobby. Or is taking selfies my hobby? I forget which....

A right Royal year!

First things first - there was no sub-2 at Royal Parks. Nor was there a personal best. I did beat last years time and completed it in a very pleasing 2:04:16. My second fastest half marathon time in what was my 10th half since I ran my first at Royal Parks last year.

These statistics though (once again) don't sum up what happened today. Royal Parks is an epic event. Running through closed central London streets and through 3 of London's Royal Parks (Hyde, St James and Green) with 16000 other runners. In some places crowds several deep and noise that makes your heart pound and your step quicken.

Last year I arrived to meet with people who were mostly virtual strangers. Now so many of those people have become real friends and here we were a year on. Plus I was bringing with me a giant band of Sunday Selfies as well as the very brave Serena who would run her first ever half marathon! Old friends mixed with new friends and we took selfies. Laughed, cried and at the end celebrated with a few drinks in the pub!

Everyone takes something different from a race. Sometimes it's the time and getting that PB or personal time goal. Sometimes it's just mastering a distance. For me today it was about friendship. Most importantly laying to rest the ghost of Jules and I starting races together and never quite finishing them that way. Often the challenge becomes too great for one of us so we wave farewell to the other (often not far from the end). But today as the sun shone and the paths in the park twisted and turned us with masses of people making it hard to find a pace and rhythm we were certain of one thing. No one was leaving anyone!! So much so that we spent the final 3 miles telling each other "you aren't leaving!!"

So that special moment as we crossed the line hand in hand and with the exact same time was very special indeed. Then to watch Danny and Jim of the Selfies finish. Catch up with friends all over the park and gather to cheer runners home and see Serena storm in without stopping once in her first 13.1 miles just made the day complete.

To be honest I think unlikely I'll run Royal Parks again. The congestion and winding paths make it a brutal race. The spectacle I think is worth experiencing but twice is probably enough for me. I still dream of reaching the mythic sub 2 hour mark. Though today felt hard enough to reach 2:04 so not sure how realistic that is?

But one year on from my first ever half I will feel proud that today I finished my 10th. I've also run two marathons. Two 20 milers. Two 10 milers and several other races of varying shorter distances in this same year. What's more amazing is that I now have friends from all around the UK who share this crazy love of running - as well as putting up with all those bloody selfies! Why do I run? Why has this last two years seen my life become about early mornings, pounding streets and trails and pushing my body and mind to its limits? Well I think the bigger question is why not?

Sunday Selfies Ride Again

6 weeks ago I stuck a 12 week plan to the fridge for Royal Parks Half. Sadly things don't always go to plan and a mixture of life, illness and just bad luck mean most of my plan is covered in crosses to mark missed runs. But I haven't given up and I'm still aiming to get as close to 2 hours as I can on 11 October. And what's more the Maidstone Sunday Selfies have once again risen to me aid!

They've still been running week in and week out but I've only watched from a sad lonely distance. Wondering if I'd ever be good enough to trot out with them again. I started the Facebook Group that brings us together to help me train for Brighton and London and save our non-running friends from endless photos, run plans and endless run chat! But it's become something I never imagined and is simply the best motivation anyone could have. 

So last week I was nervous but pleased to be able to try and get out running with them again - we planned an ambitious two part run with those running further meeting those running the shorter distance mid-way through. It worked. We ran. We ate blackberries. We dodged bulls. We took selfies. 12 of us altogether, running at the speed of chat - making sure we all get round. 

So today I wanted to go further - 10 miles. Boy what a great run! Hills, hills and more hills (thanks Sara!) but amazing views, off road tracks, smiles, more blackberries and plenty of selfies! I'm back to running hills and miles. It's not fast but it is pretty. 

If I keep pushing at parkrun, SRC nights for my speed to come back. Who knows maybe the two things will combine and I'll find I can at least beat last years Royal Parks time even if I can't get under 2 hours. 

In the end I don't care. I'm reminded why I run each time we stop to take a selfie. So thank you one and all who have ever come on one of our runs. 

"The reason we race isn't so much to beat each other....but to be with each other" 

What's gone wrong

Re-reading my last blog post is great. So true. I love running. I love the freedom. The stress release. The fitness and calorie burn. The friendship. But I've stopped running. Not completely but near enough. I ran just 50k in June and I've only run 4k so far in July. 4k. Yep that's all - even that run I pulled up and hobbled home. 

Injury? Yes slightly - I've been embarrassed to tell anyone (because of memories of others being taunted at school) that I've got a verruca on my foot. It's fine and being treated but sometimes it hurts and that has led me to change the way I hold my foot. Which in turn has led to a pain in my ankle and now my calf. I've managed to run until my last run when it hurt so much I pulled up. But to be fair I think this is partly an excuse I've been looking for not to run. 

Holiday running was good but no momentous cathartic moment like last year. Mojo? A term I hate almost as much as "bling" - well yes I guess it's gone. I will get it back. I will run for me. I've felt undue pressure from races, from running with friends, in groups, being 'slow' or failing to live up to all the things I've been. I've felt undue pressure from me. I guess I'm a bit depressed - life has dealt a raw deal lately. So I've put on part of the weight I fought so hard to lose. I've never run at this weight before (having lost most of my size before I started running). I've said I'm happy being slow but I think only in a large crowd or on my own. The expectation otherwise feels too great. 

So am I a hypocrite? All those things I've said and written about running for yourself. Not worrying about speed. Delight in running itself. They still stand. I still believe them. I just don't believe so much in me. I'm retreating - from myself, from the world, from running. 

But to help I've gone back to what I do best. I have a plan. Royal Parks Half is 12 weeks away and I so wanted to get a sub-2 hour time. It may be beyond me now (given I can't do 5k faster than 30 mins or a 10 much faster than 70!) but I'll use it to try and get motivation. To provide focus away from life's traumas and work stress. To run again. To find the me that fell in love with running. That lost weight. That felt free. That felt happy. Without doubt I'm happier when I run. The demons that have haunted my life are washed away with each stride and each selfie! 

Even starting to blog again. Perhaps the most brutally honest blog I've written should help! And Sunday I'll do my best to run 10k in Newham around the Olympic Park, with friends as part of a relay team. I won't be fast but I won't give up. I will smile and do my best. I'll start to remember why I run in the first place.  And I'll let you know how it goes. 

p.s what happened next...

So that was London, 3 weeks ago. And since then? It's not been easy. I knew it wouldn't be and I knew I'd be tired. But wow I had no idea just how tired.

So I've been resting. Recovering. I've run a little. I've stopped runs because my heart wasn't it. Hell, I ran a race - got a medal just last weekend. But I did begin to wonder - would I really get it back? I declared "no more marathons after Brighton and New York", which I meant. Sincerely. They're hard. Really hard. And it takes so much out of your life to train and run.

I haven't lost my mojo - my passion for running is as strong as ever. I just knew I needed rest. Lots of rest. Plenty of races entered for this year so lots to shoot for. But who knew 5k could feel so hard? Who knew legs could be so tired? And the mental battle you've been through - and for me twice, in two weeks.

And then this morning - with just a small group of my selfie running friends I thought I'd go back to one of my oldest running routes. The place I first did a long run, along the river - I went for run. Speed of chat pace, selfies and sunshine. We ran 10 miles and it felt great. I loved it. I loved it so much more than a 5k, or a 10k and I felt I could have run on. I felt like I was a distance runner. I feel like I've found my place in the running universe.

I don't care how fast I run. I don't care if I never run a marathon under 5 hours again. I don't care if I never run a 5k in 25 minutes. It doesn't upset or bother me if my 10k PB stays at 55 minutes until I can't run any more. What I love is the feeling of running with friends, of stopping for a selfie, of covering ground you've not covered before. Oh and I love a medal, the crowds cheering you on, the sense of accomplishment, of achievement, of knowing you had to reach places you didn't know you had. I realised today I want to run for the love of running. I've had enough things in my life that I have had to fight for and I don't want running to be another.

If I'm going to run it has to be for me and it has to be for fun.  So it will be.

The London Experience

Yes I know it was ages ago and why haven't I written about it before - well things have been busy. London was euphoric (I'll get to that in a minute) but since then, well once I could start walking again, life has kind of taken over. Turns out there is a lot to do when you aren't running, thinking about running, marking off runs on the training plan, talking about running, oh and did I mention running…..

So I'm sure you've all been dying to know "how was London"?  Nope you haven't, or actually you already know as I didn't stop talking about it on Twitter, or Facebook or at parkrun or SRC? Well then best stop the blog here. But how was it really? I mean after the euphoria has died down and I've had a chance to reflect? It was bloody amazing! 

Everything about the London marathon is amazing. Yes, I know it isn't the only marathon and there are plenty of amazing marathons. And yes for some people it won't be for them. But for me, it certainly felt like a once in a lifetime experience. We arrived in London on the Saturday and as our hotel was in St James we were able to pop down and see the finish area being set up, the tingles started then. Sunday morning getting up and walking through the empty streets of London to Charing Cross, dressed in a  borrowed CSI suit, it started to hit home what was happening. Blimey I haven't seen London at that time since my 20s and heading home from clubbing.

I reached Blackheath and there were so many people. We walked through the damp, dreary weather up to the famous start. I had my first catastrophe of the day - desperate for the toilet I entered the start area and rushed to the loo (no queues yet), but I'd missed running into DigDeepDolly. It was gutting. We texted and felt bad omens falling. "Dammit" I decided "this can't be", so against the oncoming traffic I snuck out of the entrance and looked around to find her, I needed that pre-race hug! The good news is we totally found each other and I wasn't hopping up and down doing a wee-wee dance. Our catch up did have to be paused to allow Dolly to do her important volunteer job, which meant painting ladders on the face and legs of a man running with a giant ladder….

Saying goodbye I headed back into the start. I had about an hour to kill before the off. This allowed for multiple toilet trips (the queues though long went fast, no sign of the infamous women's urinals though) and bumping in to a few other people I knew. Soon I was gathering at the very back of the blue start, pen 9 and expecting to wait a good 20 - 30 minutes after the official start time to cross the start. We never heard the 10am start, but after 10 minutes we started to move and to be honest we didn't stop - I was over the start in about 15 minutes and who was at the start screaming at me as I officially started the London Marathon - Dolly! Yep all was going very well so far.

This was it I was running the London Marathon. I'm not going to give you a blow by blow account of the race. You don't need that. I had changed my mindset for London. This one I was going to enjoy. I had a new nutrition routine. SIS gels every 45 minutes and then Cliff Shot Bloks in between. I was going to take everything offered to me (I did - jelly babies, oranges, jelly beans). On my wrist I had written motivational messages - REMEMBER LYDD (how to dig deep), Run Strong, Um Bongo! The aim was to run with head up, looking around, smiling, a steady pace of 7minute / KM at least for the first 13 miles, then see how I felt. It started just as I planned. Well for 2 miles, as then I suddenly thought "I need a wee!". This never happens to me and I'd joined the toilet queue FOUR TIMES at the start! But I decided what the hell, if you gotta go….so I stopped at toilets that didn't seem to have much of a queue. It didn't take long but I knew now that timing was not what this marathon was going to be about.

So I ran, I smiled and I ran. It was great as the early part of the marathon is through parts of London I used to live in - it was wonderful to know where I was. As we approached the heart of Greenwich I heard the first person shouting "Jo, Jo, JO!" in a way that is unmistakably someone you know (don't forget I run with my name on my shirt so lots of people shout "Jo"). It was Nick - our fabulous ultra running North Downs guide! This was to be the first of many people I saw on route. In fact I saw nearly everyone that I knew would be out watching. It was unbelievable, but oh so welcome. Just round the corner from Nick was the Cutty Sark - and yep I decided I would stop for a selfie. It was going to be this kind of day. The crowd loved it and cheered, so you know what? I turned round and took a selfie with them too! And then I started to run….

There were points along the route that I knew would be important - the Cutty Sark, Tower Bridge where all my Maidstone Harrier friends were marshaling and the fact it's Tower Bridge, 14 miles where some of my family were going to be, 19 miles where Run Mummy Run would be, entering the Embankment and seeing Big Ben in front of you and the top of the Mall - the finish line and where Keeley and our friend Serena were going to be in the grandstands.

Oh didn't I mention? Keeley was to have a blast on marathon day too as we were so lucky to get two VIP tickets which gave her a grandstand seat at the finish.

Approaching Tower Bridge was a special moment, I wasn't alone in whipping out my camera but I was alone in the zig-zag route I took across the bridge running from friend to friend for hellos and high fives, oh and a selfie stop with Denise Lewis!

Kicking on I knew it wouldn't be long until my next boost - this marathon thing was going great. Oh and pace - I was spot on. Those 7minute Ks were knocking themselves out a scary regularity. But I wasn't fooled. I knew how great I felt at 13 miles in Brighton and how it all went wrong. Keep going, run strong and take all those jelly babies offered. I was also feeling good as I'd past 3 rhinos and at mile 10 the man running dressed as testicles, so there was no shame to come from today! I was even more surprised when I caught up with Ivonne, my friend running as a Pink Lady apple - i genuinely thought the apple would beat me! But it was hotter than it seemed for us runners and I've no idea how she survived in that apple outfit! (I discovered you can't beat using the showers along the race route to cool down, even on a seemingly cool day)

As I ran along 13 miles I was frantically looking for my sister and nephew and there it was again "Jo, JO, JOOOOOO!!!" This time from across the opposite side of the road, where runners were returning! Yep they'd managed (with the help of a crowd of strangers) to get my attention - it was fabulous, banners and waves and off I ran….now to get to mile 19 and RMR.   Its hard to remember exactly but I think it was on the way to mile 19 that the blue 5 hour pacers caught me. I had been pacing perfectly and I had thought at 13/14 miles I would think about upping my pace if i felt okay. Well I was feeling great and I knew I was still on for 5 hours. When the pacers went by I decided to try and stick with them, after all 5 hours. But blimey they were going a fair pace. Looking at my watch they were at 6:45 pace. It just felt fast. Faster than I wanted to go. So, I let them go. I settled back and thought you know what, you're enjoying this run. You can keep 7m/k going for sure so don't change it. Let them go. This isn't about the time. This is about the experience. So I waved them off in my mind and fixed that smile back on my face.

Now parts of London are hard, the route isn't always glamorous but the crowds never disappear. Other than for the odd under-pass and even then they try and give you music and support. Entering Canary Wharf must feel like such a different experience for those who ran the marathon in the early days, no dank Isle of Dogs now but massive crowds and shiny buildings. But my eyes were peeled for one thing only. I was not going to miss my friends Shelley and Shona and all the RMR gang - especially as for me it was at 19 miles and beyond where it really fell apart at Brighton. These guys were going to see me through! And OH YES - they did. I won't say anything about what it felt like to spot them, see them, hug them. I think the photos just say it all. xxxx

So now, into the dreaded post 20 mile phase, but wait what is this - a quiet residential area and who is standing on the street corner, unexpectedly calling my name - my sister and nephew! Fabulous.
Another photo stop and some big hugs and yep on I ran.  I was still seeing people I knew, Gerry, Ange and the girls; Ed, Glyn and Shona - but I used all the support around me. Running past a gay pub I waved and blew kisses - pointing to the New Family Social rainbow colours on my shirt. Deeply proud I was running for such an amazing LGBT charity and making so much money for them. It made all the difference.

Soon I was heading back down towards Tower Hill and once again I saw my Harrier friends - James, Teresa and Robyn and I stopped for some selfies (well why not). At this point I was still all smiles and
Teresa turned to me and politely said "if you don't mind me saying so, you seem much better than you did at this point in Brighton"  -  oh yes, this was no Brighton and when I passed the 23 mile marker, that moment in Brighton when my wheels fell right off and Jules forged ahead. Well, goodness knows what they thought around me but with a positive fist pump and this time joy in my heart I cried out "Um Bongo!"

Its around Tower Hill that London really comes into it's own as you start to move into the Embankment the crowds grow, the views of the Thames are amazing and Big Ben looms ahead of you. It was amazing. But it was still a marathon. It was still hard, the body is still crying "STOP!" but your mind is saying, "run and smile, run and smile". I learnt at this point something I didn't realise in Brighton. Although my name was still being called it was a lot less than in Brighton at this point. Why? Well the crowd can see who is struggling, in Brighton I needed every cheer, "come on" and "Go Jo". In London it was those around me at this point that needed it more. A clever stats thing has told me that over the last 7.2km in London I passed 744 runners, only 88 passed me. This marathon was not going to break me.

And then I was turning toward Birdcage Walk and the finish was approaching. I started to count down the time till I would see Keeley. We had thought long and hard about the fact I wouldn't see her until the end. But this way I knew I was going to see her. She would be part of my finish. And I was going to finish and finish strong. As you pass under the 385 yards to go sign it is hard not to be overwhelmed. But I was fixed on the first grandstand on the left as I entered the Mall and then there they were!! Oh what a different sight would have beheld her than at Brighton, no hugs this time but smiles and cheers and waves and then on I ran…..to the finish.

35 years ago the first London Marathon men's race was won by Dick Beardsley and Inge Simonsen and as they approached the line they held hands - so for this anniversary year we had been asked to finish hand in hand - if we wanted. As the line approached, I turned to the runner next to me and asked him "do you want to finish hand in hand?" - so we did, triumphantly crossing the line together and he kindly stopped for a selfie just as we finished too! And that was it. I had run the London marathon in 5 hours 4 minutes and 3 seconds.

And do you know what? It was perfect and I'll never run the London Marathon again so thank you to everyone who made it a day I'll never forget.

(If you fancy you can watch more on You Tube of The London Experience)

Mid-week hiatus

Well I'm a marathoner! Yep I ran 26.2 miles or to be more accurate 26 miles 385 yards last Sunday. I'd like to say it all went to plan and was fabulous and that I felt simply amazing the whole way. Sadly I can't say that as I want this blog to at least be the truth. But I can say it was amazing. It was hard. It was fun too. And I did it. I did it in 4 hours 53 minutes and 32 seconds.

We'll get to the fact I've got to do it all over again in 7 days in a moment. 

So, how was it? Well I couldn't have done it without a few people. First my running at the speed of chat buddy Um Bongo Jules. We laughed, cried, high fived, hugged and photo bombed our way round nearly the whole way. Even in the dreaded industrial park we kept each other going. And boy did we pace it perfectly. Each mile ticked off exactly as planned. And I'm super proud she kept it going and was able to finish in 4 hours 50! 

Second all the fabulous supporters out on route - Teresa, Howard, Tony, Lucy, the McDonnells, the Um Bongo fan club, then my own crew - Yolaine, Veronique, Sharon, Nicky, Caroline, Mike and Serena. Even better my amazing niece Maria who I saw 3 times and Keeley who was in the right place at the right time as always. 

Finally the extra supporters who are mostly strangers but become friends as you run. The amazing Bosh crew on route, all the Run Mummy Runners and UkRunChat. And the strangers in the crowd who call out your name like you're a champion and give you that extra drive to get to the finish. 

So the race itself - it started with excitement (not just for my VIP area and posh toilets) and high fiving Jo Pavey. We kept to our pace place 7min/km for the start. Not going off too fast. Chatting. Cheering. Spotting friends and family. The route was great. Flat and crowded as we wound around the streets of Brighton and headed out toward Rodean. A few gentle hills but nothing like our Downs training runs. The sun was hot and there was little sea breeze so we knew this wasn't going to be easy. By half way we were flying and it was great to see Keeley and everyone enjoying themselves too. It was a great day. We photo bombed Katharine Merry doing a TV interview and at 15 miles I even paused for a quick Footloose dance outside a pub which got a great cheer! 

Then we entered a residential district which snaked its way past people with oranges, watermelon, the Queen and Prince Philip, residents of care homes outside to cheer us on! As we looped back round to head toward mile 18 it was starting to get hard. It was warm and I was taking on water but was it enough. Or was it too much? My mind started to play tricks on me. Seeing Maria at 18 miles for a hug gave me a push though and on we went. Heading toward the magic 20 miles and into the unknown. The mental barrier of passing into distances I've not run before. 

This is what makes Brighton so tough. Most runners haven't gone beyond 20 miles in training. So the first time you do is in the race. And in Brighton they make this the toughest part of the run - out into the industrial waste land of Shoreham Power station. It's long, it's bleak and it smells of fish. There is little to enjoy out there. But you learn what you're made of. I was so lucky to have Jules alongside me. We tried to find things to talk about. To take our mind off it. We carried on laughing and chatting. But I could feel my legs and my head fading. This was getting harder and hotter. At 22 miles we passed the fabulous Saucony screen and lucky for me Keeley appeared - I didn't hear what she said but seeing her was enough. It brought tears to my eyes but strength to my heart. She would be at mile 25. I just had to keep going. 

As we turned through mile 23 we reached just a 5k to go! One final parkrun. We had been counting them down slowly and surely. And as if to cement the point there were the Giles' with hugs and water! 

Don't be fooled a marathon is tough and it's now at mile 23 you understand how tough it is. What was great was that Jules still had energy in her legs - so with a heavy heart from both of us one said "go!" And the other said "I'm sorry!"  It's mad isn't how you feel - one guilty the other actually pleased someone can still run!! There's a moment where I thought - keep up. Chase her down. But my legs didn't have it. I started to feel despair when at that moment a friend from the past appeared alongside me, cheering me on and running alongside me for a short way. Jo you will never know how much I needed that! Another mile ticked past. 24. Two to go. 

By now I was run/walking. No more than a 20 second walk. But enough to help me feel I could get there. I so wanted to run the whole way. But I just didn't have it. Yet every time someone cheered me I picked up and started again and then I knew I was near my cheering point. 25.6 miles. I think I sprinted toward Keeley to get that last energy giving hug. To feel I could do this. To feel I could make the end. I could feel she didn't want to let me go and I knew she knew how hard I was finding it. But I had to finish. And I had to finish in under 5 hours! 

I had been working out how slow I could go to still make it. My mind was sapped of all the strength I thought it had. The crowds grew larger. The cheers louder. I was being swept along.  I reached 26 miles at a walking pace. At which point I said out loud "for F@%# sake Jo you can run 385 yards!!" And I broke in to a run again. Cheers everywhere and then there was Maria waving her banner along the finish. The final inspiration I needed with an exchange of love between us! And there was the finish line. I'd done it. I'd made it. It is me after all so out came the smiles, the jazz hands and the glory!! 

And then it was over. An amazing race. A medal around my neck. A long walk to reach my bag and my friends and family. But I was walking. Elated. Exhausted. Emotional. A marathon runner. 

But what makes Brighton so special - not only my first marathon but so many of us did it and did it well! Lisa, Ben, Sue, James, Richard, Gerry, Jules, Jim, Claire, Felicity. And the woman who's fault it all was hey Dolly! 

This last week I've been over and over it all. So many times. I know what I did wrong. I know what I would change. I've been disappointed in myself. I've been proud of myself. It's a roller coaster. Part of me is glad I get to do it again so quickly. My legs are recovering. I've got a cold which is on its way out. And surely I can find the mental strength which seemed to desert me at mile 21 in Brighton? So I'm as ready as I'll ever be for London and if you can't raise your game for the London Marathon, celebrating its 35th anniversary and with Paula Radcliffe running then what can you do? Besides many of the support team will be out there again and I know Keeley will be at mile 25 and this time I'm determined she sees the Jo that has dug deep and is feeling strong! 

Here we go....

What a ride and it's almost over. Here I am sitting in Brighton just 36 hours to go before I run my first marathon. Today I picked up my race number, met some Twitter legends (!!) and had our hotel room upgraded. So far so good.

I've had a burger for lunch and pasta for dinner. A pre-race massage. Oh and caught a cold. But you can't have everything. 

So, in 2 days I'll be calling myself a marathon runner. And I'll have already made loads of money for my chosen charity New Family Social. That makes me so proud. Thank you to everyone who has sponsored me. It means so much. And trust me it will help when I need to dig in for inspiration. 

The Sunday Selfies of Maidstone have worked hard to get to this point. I have deep respect for anyone that trains for a marathon alone. I've been surrounded by wonderful friends and fabulous support. I don't want to let anyone down on Sunday. I don't want to let myself down. I want to enjoy it. I want to finish. I want to be a marathon runner. 

Oh and then in 2 weeks I want to do it all over again! (But don't mention i entered next years Brigton Marathon today!) 

Good luck everyone running this weekend. Be strong, stay focussed and believe! We're going to have a blast. 

On your marks....

Yesterday someone asked me when Brighton was - the only way I could describe it was by saying "a week on Sunday" - it sent shivers down my spine. This marathon is so close I can begin to really believe this is going to happen!

I say that because over the last few weeks there have been times I thought maybe it wouldn't. Since my disaster on the Downs I've been at my lowest in my training. My ITB has caused continued knee pain and although it's a lot better thanks to the wonders of Luke my sports massager, my now religious foam rollering, stretching, strengthening I still don't quite know how it will last 26.2 miles. I've realised though don't mess about with looking after yourself. How many runners stretch after a run?  How often have you been advised that you should stretch or do strength exercises? How many times have you read someone ask that in a blog? We all think we're invincible. You will learn (as I have) that you aren't. I just hope unlike me this doesn't happen to you 3 weeks before your first marathon! 

A highlight in the last two weeks was to run Warwick Half with two of my nieces - they were both amazing - we learnt a lot about ourselves and how hard running is out on that course. But with a smile, some singing and plenty of high fives made it around the 13.1 miles in an impressive 2:21:16. I hope they both still feel as proud as I do about this race. And I hope they both keep running.

For me running has gone from a means to an end to the meaning itself. I find happiness in running with my friends (and now family), but I also find solace in solo runs. A chance to free my mind from the stress of the world. It never gets easier. Be it 5k or 40k every run still has ups and downs. The legs can feel heavy. My breathing laboured. But recovery gets easier at the end. And more importantly when your running through beautiful countryside, or in gorgeous sunshine and even in cold and rain and suddenly everything clicks and you feel totally free and just a moment of what you could have been if you'd started running at school - well the world feels great! Or it could just be you know you can go home and it Krispy Kremes without guilt?! 

I had a run like that last night (not a doughnut run!) when for the first time in weeks as I ran through the rain at Sweatshop 5k my knee didn't hurt, I felt strong, I felt fit. All things you aren't meant to feel in taper (that time when you wind down before your big race) as often reducing your running can send your mind into craziness! But I think I was so pleased that finally I'm on my way back to feeling like I can do this the taper-madness held off and I just enjoyed my run. Again though the common factor is I was surrounded by friends. Friends who have been here each step of this crazy marathon challenge. Friends that I happily turned out to cheer on a wet Sunday morning even though I wasn't running. Two years ago I didn't know people ran races. Now I go to a local race and get to cheer not just strangers but members of my community and great friends. 

So, just 11 days to go now as I write this and then I'll be lining up at the start of Brighton marathon with lots of those friends. I'm told you never forget your first marathon. I'm told the feeling as you cross the finish line is one of the greatest things you'll ever achieve. I'm now terrified and exhilarated in equal measure knowing that in just a few days I'll find out if what I'm told is true! 

Whoops and warning

Four weeks to go. Less now until Brighton and I should be brimming with confidence. I ran two 20 mile races back to back. The second taking 11 minutes off the first. Although they were the hardest thing I've ever done they helped me hit the mental state where I felt confident for the first time saying "I can do this marathon".

Of course I was surrounded by the Sunday Selfies and I feel grateful every day for the support and friendship I've found. How people train for these things alone I have no idea. But huge respect to those that do. As it is nearly every mile I've run has had someone by my side. Although the last 3 miles of the Lydd 20 when I found myself alone I learnt what it meant to reach inside and grind out a run. I focussed on just putting one foot in front of the other. Thinking short strides and willpower would see me through. No tears at the end as there had been at the finish of my first 20 the week before - this running is becoming an emotional journey.

Nutrition strategy has been worked out. My pace for race day has also been calculated. Using learning from all my runs. Advice from others and being realistic in what I can achieve. The stories I'm hearing from others are teaching me not to underestimate how hard this will be. Just 3 more long runs to go - 15 miles today. Warwick Half next week. Folkestone 10 miles on Good Friday. 

As we started on the North Downs I really wanted to finish that way too. It would be like Rocky and our Philadelphia steps. I would feel strong and fit. Mind set in place and physically able to face the challenge to come.  So today with a smaller group than normal (thanks to Mothers Day) we set off and I was as happy as can be. I love running with the Sunday Selfies. My friends. We talk complete rubbish for miles and miles and laugh a lot. There is no pressure to do anything than your own pace and we had hit 3k before I'd even realised. At that point we had a mountain to climb to get up to the North Downs Way - so up we went. Still going well (albeit slowly at this point - no speed records today) and yes it was tough but it was doing us good. Then our first downhill (before we had to go up again) and the pain started. It was pain I recognised so wasn't too worried. I've had ITB trouble (iliotibial band) before and my sports massager Luke has worked wonders for me in the past. The pain is temporary and I can stretch it and foam roll it out when I get home. 

So we continued. Up and down elevations of mammoth proportions.

Every downhill was getting worse and the uphills started to hurt. And we were slow. 10k in 1:30. 2 hours in and not hit 10 miles. We all agreed to cut it short. Head for home. The long downhill was agony. I've not had pain like it running before. Hitting the fairly flat but undulating Pilgrims Way with just 10k to go I thought "okay I can do this". Now alone with my very good run buddy Tim we let the others disappear into the distance and just tried to keep it going. But I couldn't. More walk breaks and finally the realisation this wasn't working. At the last regroup we told the others to head for home. I was, at that point, still thinking I could finish. A few strides later I knew I couldn't. The head over ruled my heart. The longer game more important than this small part. I rang home to be rescued. And after a walk of half a mile we stopped. 

(Just to say when the others left us they put in an amazing 4 mile run picking up their pace considerably so well done guys!) 

Arriving home I'm trying not to be dispondent. I know the solution. Ice. Stretching. Foam roller. Actually doing the squats and lunges Luke recommended back in January! I've got four weeks. I'm not running as much. Today I was in my hybrids not my road shoes. Perhaps the change contributed? We also climbed horrendous hills. And I've run a lot these past few weeks. Taper is the time for care. Rest the legs. Avoid injury. Recover from training. I keep telling myself it's going to be okay. That the confidence I'd gained is still justified. That I shouldn't fear Brighton and the possibility of the pain I felt today returning. These last three months have been some of the toughest of my life. These next four weeks are going to test me even more than I thought - just getting to the start of Brighton is now top of my list!