Here Comes Jeff....

London is now 24 days away. The Wall is 71 days away. Training plans have been and gone. Planned times. Expectations all out of the window. But I’m still here, thinking about running in the future. Planning on getting through. Which is what matters. The only thing that matters, is getting through each day. 

Which is where Jeff has come into his own. Run Mummy Run is full of Jeffers. The selfies have a few too. I understood the concept, a run/walk strategy. But hadn’t really thought that much about it. Visiting the website I found some nuggets and decided to download the Kindle version of Jeff Galloway’s marathon book. It’s changed everything. 

I’ve read it twice already and I was particularly buoyed by him saying if you pick the book up 3 weeks before a marathon having only run up to 18 miles you’ll be fine. Mainly cause it’s 4 weeks and I’ve not even run 18 miles yet. But today I ran 15. 1 minute run, 1 minute walk. Fuelling as I went on a trail bar, a bag of nuts and one shot blok. It turned out to be the best run I’ve had in ages. Who cares about the time? Why do we all care about time. “I’m slow. I’m fast. Urgh that was awful.” If that’s your bag then fine. But I don’t need to hear about it, as what am I meant to say? Your fast is my slow. My slow is your fast. None of us (well other than maybe Charlotte) are going to win anything. 

I’m getting older by the second. I’m overweight, unhappy and desperate to keep myself running as it’s the only time I feel free from all that weighs me down. And Jeff gets that. Running is about fun. About finishing. But actually if you want to go for a time, well you can do that too. But just don’t forget the core of why we run. So watching Sheila complete Barcelona marathon in a PB and knowing she had Jeffed it swung me to find out more. 

Don’t tell me I’m not really running, or that I shouldn’t be out there if I’m taking 7 hours. As actually 7 hours for 26.2 miles is perfect pace for my 69 miles. Never mind the 120km I’ve got in September. And I just want to feel alive. Free. So that when I stop running I can feel alive. Free. Maybe enough so I can get up in the morning. Go to work. Feel like everything will be okay. And if Jeff helps with that, woohoo. 

We all need a bit of Jeff in our lives, to remember why we do things and what’s important. When I created the Selfies Facebook Group I deliberately used the photo with the phrase “we race together not to beat each other, but to be together” - our shirts say ‘running at the speed of chat’ because we run together and that’s what matters. 

At the moment I run alone. There is no chat. I can’t face being with people, watching them run into the distance. Wait for me. Run off again. Or for me to have to fill the silence when I’m terrified of how I can do that. In normal circumstances I wouldn’t mind any of that. But my circumstances are not normal. So i run alone, to keep myself safe and away from things that may become too much. 

But I’ll finish London, in 6 hours, 7 hours, even if they take all the stands away and I don’t get a medal. I will cross the line in the Mall and finish. And then I’ll dust myself off and get ready for the Wall. Because I’ve spent my life building walls around me, to keep myself safe from judgement and pain. So now I want to run along one and be proud of what I’ve achieved. But most of all have up to 26 hours of silencing the demons in my head. 

Running for Breast Cancer Now

Each step as it comes

I’ve been running. Although to be fair, I suspect a lot of you wouldn’t call what I’m doing running. But it works for me. A new ‘training’ plan, stripped back to just 3 runs a week. Feels like it gives me a chance to line up at London with a solid chance of finishing. But even more so, it will lead me on to June and completing the challenge I’ve always wanted since I started running The Wall - 69 miles. In fact I’ve worked out such a slow pacing schedule I know I can complete that come what may. 

And that’s the point isn’t it. I’m not going to win. Shit, I mostly come last lately. But I finish. I’m in no hurry to get to the end and maybe that makes me not a runner. But I’ve got enough going on without worrying about that too. I’m out there, I’m moving and yes my running pace is currently that of an average walker (trust me, all my fitness app tell me I’ve been for a VERY long walk not a run lately) but it’s me, moving. 

Why are we all in such a hurry anyway? I hit those times a couple of years ago that I’m sure many runners would die for. I don’t expect to hit them again. It’s not the game I’m into. If I’m going to spend £50 or more entering a race or event I may as well get my money’s worth! And if I’m going to train for those races knowing that, then what’s my hurry. Why am I so keen to reach the end, when actually I’d quite like to enjoy the journey. I’m still moving. I’m still doing the distance and I am not walking! 

I’ve given up anything that goes against this ethos - my runs still post to Strava but I’ve turned off notifications, I don’t open the app, add photos, give my jaunts pithy titles. Yes I collect the data from my garmin and actually I still take photos on a run. (No selfies currently) but I don’t want to put myself in the target of those that may not get what I’m doing. 3 hours for a 10 mile run....is probably less speed of chat and more speed of in-depth conversation. But at the moment I’m doing nearly all my running alone. So it isn’t hurting anyone. Race day, I’m sure there’ll be people who won’t understand. But I’ve discovered quite a little crowd of us at the back. We have a lot of fun. We look around, we take it in and we put our hearts out there. I’m not saying others don’t do all that too. But I promise you when the crowds have all gone and they’re packing up the finish - it’s a lonely place to be so we may as well get what we can before that point! 

My new therapist asked me last week “why on earth are you running so far?” - what was I trying to prove? It was a fair question. Some of my races have been very long, but actually not as long as they could be. And this year, I’ve got my longest ever. I didn’t think I was trying to prove anything. Other than that I’m alive. Maybe it is a weird test of endurance, to say - “hey, look I’ve got through life so this shit ain’t ever going to beat me!” But I don’t know, really. I do know I like running far. I hate 5k. I’ve talked about this before. It sucks. Slow, fast, walking. Blah. I’ve discovered I warm up at the 8 mile mark. And cause I don’t care how long it’s taking me, well I can just keep going. Every race I’ve got now has a cut-off that allows for this, those that don’t. Well I may not start. They’ve been my DNS this year so far. Tight times. I’m in no place to push a pace and I don't’ know if I ever will be again. 

Everyone has been kind since my last blog post. I can’t say things have got better. But I am running. Jules spotted actually I’ve gone over 80 miles now this year and maybe by the end of the week I’ll hit 100. I’m sticking to the plan. And I’m being me. A plodder. A walk/runner. A jogger. Whatever. Kick me out of your race cause I’m too slow, that’s fine. But I’ll be found up on the North Downs or the Greensand way pootling along. Cause I can. And cause right now, it’s all I’ve got! 

If you’ve read this and relate and fancy helping me hit my targets, Breast Cancer Now would be really grateful. 

My fundraising page

Could this be the end...?

I started the year with optimism and hope, now it’s nearly spring and I can’t say there’s a spring in my step....

2019 is so far the year of the DNS - all the races I’ve entered so far I’ve deferred or not been able to run. No Pilgrims, no Lenham Marathon, not even an Ashford 10k and now no Dartford Half. I’m still entered in to Folkestone 10 and obviously the biggies. But I’m not entering any more races and next year I’m not entering any at all. 

Fact is I’m not running. Barely a step. My year to date is 54 miles. That should almost be my weekly by now. But I’m holding on that i can still do this. All the races I’m in allow for walkers and with a run/walk pace I think I can get round within the cut offs. Plus I hope that I’ll find it in me somewhere to start again, get fit. Stop eating and piling on the pounds. 

But it’s hard. Life is really really hard. I’m at the lowest ebb I’ve been for many many years. But not ever, so there is some light. And I’m stuck in the broken mental health system of this country. Bounced from place to place and apparently relying on tablets to fix it all, when actually they can’t. 

I’ve found some solace in joining the local Mind running group - they were doing couch to 5k, which felt a suitable place to start. Until the last session when they sent me off with some very skinny looking runners as they thought I was above the walk/run. Of course this wasn’t what I needed or wanted and I had to swallow the anxiety at running with folk who clearly can run faster than my 38 min 5k! But I made it through alive and perhaps learnt something along the way too. 

I’ve got London in 8 weeks. I trained for Loch Ness in 4 but was a stone lighter. A good deal brighter and wasn’t feeling the intense pressure that London, with the funds I’ve raised and long gone dream of doing a London sub-5 (my best there is 5:04:03 so at least aesthetically pleasing). I know I can make the start line. I know I can make the finish line. At least I think I do...see there it is. Who knows?

At the moment all I’m doing is locking myself away, hiding from the world, social media. Anything I put out there is probably a false front to make it all seem okay. But i wonder if as I fall out of love with life, I’ve truly fallen out of love with running. It used to be my solace, my place of enjoyment. Being outside, with friends, laughing, taking selfies, sharing selfies, stories, medals, races, meeting people. Keeping me in those 36 jeans....none of it seems to matter any more or push me out the door. Yes, I know, it’s just the dreaded “D” word making me feel like this. It will all be okay, I’ll find my “that hideous expression I refuse to use” again...perhaps. I’d say I hope so, but I’m not sure I do. Running has become part of my problem, not a solution to it. 

So, I’ll do my races. The ones I’ve dreamt of. I’ll give them all I can. Which may not be all I’ve got. And then I may just stop. At least for a year. Perhaps take up walking. No more medals. No more races. No more selfies. But first I just want to keep taking one day at a time. And to let all of you know, we aren’t all perfect. We don’t have perfect lives. We have flaws and cracks and fears. I’m sorry this isn’t a motivational, whoop whoop blog post. But it is me and at the moment, that’s all I’ve got. 

Thank you to Sow Ay for the amazing illustrations - as always, see more at http://sow-ay.tumblr.com/ 

Cracked....not broken

Wow, only 3 blog posts last year and clearly my race to the tower not only impacted my running but my ability to share my inane words with you as nothing since June?!

As any of you will know from social media, I’m still alive and I didn’t stop running totally after RTTT.  I had Salisbury Marathon in August (which nearly did kill me) and then Loch Ness in September.  I gave myself 4 weeks after the disaster of Salisbury to get fit for Loch Ness. It totally worked, don’t believe anyone who says you can’t marathon train in 4 weeks! Went from a 7hr 17 marathon to 5 hr 41....and then followed that up with a glorious Royal Parks Half in 2hr 40. 

Since then, meh - the odd parkrun, the occasional selfie run - nothing further than 10 miles and a DNS for the end of year 10 miler race. Also a change in plans - with so little running the thought of doing the Pilgrims Challenge at the start of Feb was too much pressure. Back to back 32 miles is not the kind of 4 week training plan I think would work. Instead I’m now in the Druids Challenge for November. 

All my races this year are to raise money for Breast Cancer Now, back in July last year I applied to them for a London Marathon Place as I knew - even if I got in the ballot I wanted to raise funds for them. My eldest sister has completed her fight against breast cancer and won, it’s been a really hard fought few years for her and the family. If I can do something, anything to make that easier for others then why not.  People have been so generous in their donations and I can’t thank you all enough. 

 

Jo’s Fundraising

What does 2019 hold then....I’m not normally one for posting about races but why not hey?

Lenham Cross Marathon is in Feb, apparently more than a marathon and along some of our favourite North Downs routes, lots of steps and great practice for what’s to come! 

My usual Ashford 10k in Feb too, just because and a new one for me Dartford Half with my friend Akua. 

Then come the biggies, after a few smallies - Kent Spring Half, because it’s a wonderful race (you can win a place in my raffle still!). Folkestone 10 is looking likely, again an old favourite which I missed last year due to drunken behaviour with Nat and Emma.

The London Marathon - obviously as I’m running for BCN! But it’s still very much a training run for me as is Bewl Ultra in May - 3 times around Bewl Water, which I hope i beat the cut off for. 

This should all set me up very nicely for my dream race, finally I’m running The Wall. 69 miles with 27 hours to do it. Whilst Keeley drives around in the car with an inflatable mattress....Carlisle to Newcastle along the rough route of Hadrian’s Wall. As a child I always said I’d walk the Great Wall of China and practice by doing Hadrian’s Wall, so this is a first step on that goal. 

But you see, that didn’t feel enough for me this year. So I was a little rash and signed up for Salisbury 54321 Ultra. After all I’ve now done all their other distances. But again this is still a training/recovery run. As in September I’ll be flying off to Fuerteventura with my sister (she deserves to celebrate too) to take part in the Half MDS. 120km over 4 days. Carrying all the kit you need. I’m sure it will be fine....

Oh but wait, no I’m not resting there. Royal Parks Half (again as part of Team Now) and then for me and the wife, well we’re going to walk Beachy Head Marathon. Her first go at that distance. My 3rd Beachy. Then of course I’ve got my newly rescheduled Druids Challenge 84 miles over 3 days. Then I think a lie down as it will be nearly Christmas again!!

 

I always knew this year would be my big year of running, I’m starting it overweight (heavier than I’ve been in 6 years and I’ve never been this heavy and running). I’m still a little on the fragile side mentally. But with so much to keep me busy this year and all this support around me I know I’m not broken. Just cracked a little and ready to take on these challenges, raise as much money as I can for Breast Cancer Now. And hopefully keep you all up to date with my adventures....that’s if you want me to! 

Jo’s Fundraising 

Race to what....

Well that’s it, I’ve run 53 miles in one go.  Race to the Tower - the Broadway Tower in Worcestershire, which (by the way) I still haven’t seen as it was shrouded in mist and just a green and purple haze from the giant lights at it’s feet.

The word is that it’s an amazing achievement, unbelievable, inspirational, epic, awesome - keep coming with the superlatives. I’ve heard them all. 

It’s been a while since I last wrote a blog. Pre-Limassol when I ducked out of the marathon and did the half (which quite frankly was the right decision as I was not impressed by that race). Since then my training has been on and off. I ran Bewl Marathon but, to be honest, I probably didn’t do the required miles for a 50+ ultra. I did do my hill training though - which has turned out to be more useful than I could have imagined! 

I could spend endless words describing the race, the good points, the bad points. The brilliant organisation of Threshold. The joy of seeing friends at the start and on route. The benefits of Run Mummy Run or UKRunchat at events like this. I could....but I won’t. What I will do is thank some people - Lucy, whom I met for the first time at about mile 5 and we passed each other at various points until at half way we had some food and drink together. Then set out for the second half and ended up sticking together. Her walking pace (due to injury) my running pace! We climbed stupid stiles together, laughed together, shared stories of life, dragged each other up endless hills and she even had to suffer my singing a few times. But she was awesome, unbelievable, amazing and inspirational. And didn’t leave me. Even on that last hideous hill when I struggled to motivate myself to the top. Okay so she out sprinted me on the finish line, but hell - I’ll forgive her that. 

Keeley - my wife - who for the first time properly acted as race support. Turning up in places I didn’t expect (so i nearly missed her) and in places i did (even though I was hours late). Saying hello to other friends, offering them all sorts of useful and non-useful items....but still smiling, still waving and cheering all the runners whether she knew them or not. Right until 4 in the morning! 

Jules - who sat up through the day and night watching a tiny blue dot move across a map, ever more slowly as time went on. Sending me messages of support, making me laugh and virtually cheering me to the finish. 

Yep that was my first 50+ ultra. Should I stop there? Should i tell the truth? It was hard and hilly. The equivalent of climbing Snowdon twice (apparently) - over 7000 feet in elevation. Timings slipped early on. Feet started hurting before even pitstop two and at half way my first ever blister had appeared, popped and was being taped up. Another 26.2 meant i slowed to slower than walking pace (next time I’ll learn to walk faster) and i went from an 8 hour marathon to an 11 hour marathon. Vaseline became my new best friend. The dark created challenges I had expected but hadn’t understood. Tiredness and lack of sleep leads to the mind fixating on just reaching the finish. And you cannot underestimate the effect of focusing on one thing and one thing only for 19 hours and 22 minutes. I have a new found respect for those that go further and faster. 

At the finish - as sunlight was beginning to reappear I couldn’t enjoy any of the Threshold hospitality - instead I was suitably sick and whisked away by my amazing wife. Not even able to properly say goodbye and thank you to the equally amazing Lucy! 

There were plenty of mistakes made along the way. Plenty of lessons to learn. Plenty of things to consider - if and when there is a next time. I hear you laugh “of course there is a next time”. But no decision until I come back from holiday. Why? It’s simple really. It all feels a bit ‘meh’. I haven’t celebrated. Tonight was my first drink of alcohol since I finished. People send messages of congratulations and I just feel slightly fraudulent. I’ve joked that perhaps I have PTSD or PTRD....I should feel elated, high - right? The good news is my legs feel great. They felt strong. Still feel strong. My feet and lovely chafing not so much. And that’s it really. I’m disappointed. I didn’t do as I expected. It wasn’t the glorious finish - it wasn’t target 1, 2, 3 or even 20. I joked I had 24 hours and I was only a few hours short of needing them. 

My fear is when I feel this way I like to go back and race again - Beachy being a race in point. But I don’t want to go back to RTTT. I never want to see those hills again. I’d like to go back and visit the Cotswolds - maybe even get to see the tower. But 53 miles of that is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone! Don’t get me wrong, I loved it, I laughed and smiled, chatted and jazz hands. Ate and selfied. It was beautiful and well organised. But it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and in that it became more than perhaps I knew it could be....meaning reaching the finish could never match that. It could never be the achievement I needed it to be, at least not yet. I’m hopeful over time and reflection, after other races maybe, it will dawn on me what I have done. And I won’t just feel ‘meh’ - I’ll feel proud. 

A trip to the sunny side

This weekend was going to be my 10th marathon, a lovely trip to Limassol - they keep telling me it’s fast and flat, oh and sunny! Which is great. Except it won’t be my 10th marathon. It will still be flat and I hope it will still be sunny, but for the second time in a year I’ve dropped down to half marathon distance. I suppose it’s better than it becoming my 3rd DNS or even my first ever DNF. But I still feel disappointed. Mostly in myself. 

 

Everyone says ‘it’s the right thing to do’ or ‘well done for recognising it’ - but actually if I could have motivated myself to just do a few more training runs then I wouldn’t have found myself here. It was all starting to look good. January and February I was running, Ashford 10k became the first run I did without any walking and then, well then I don’t know what happened. I just stopped again. Technically I was still doing my long runs and if I’d completed my 20 miler in Thanet then I suspect I’d be flying off to Cyprus to run a marathon. But the race was cancelled due to snow, so I lost the enforced test of race conditions and 20 miles. Either way it would have told me if I was marathon ready. But now I’ve just sort of opted out, without really knowing if it was the right thing to do. 

Listen to my head is how I’ve put it. Well that’s actually quite a dangerous thing as frankly lately my head tells me a whole load of crap. Recognising what is actually worth listening to is a skill I’m not exactly mastering. We don’t like to disappoint ourselves and I don’t like to disappoint others. I know, I know - I’m not disappointing anyone, but hell I’ve been going on and on about this bloody race so it feels like somehow I am. Like the judges of social media will bang their invisible gavel and declare me guilty of over reacting, under performing and generally being an arse.....

See I told you I shouldn’t listen to my head! 

The good news is I have lots of races still to come, I’m determined to actually run Salisbury Marathon this year (the first race I dropped out of last year) and Loch Ness in September, oh and the little matter of 52 miles worth of Race to the Tower in June. If I keep telling myself all of that means it’s okay to just kick back, fly to Cyprus, drink cocktails and still run 13.2 miles (without any more than run one per week in months) and actually not only is that okay, it’s amazing. If I keep telling myself that....

I don’t want to find myself quoting Ronan Keating, as then I’ll know I’ve seriously hit rock bottom - yet life IS a rollercoaster. I no longer want to get off, but at times I feel quite a bit sick and I’ve never been a fan of rollercoasters. Turning upside down sucks. I like to stay steady and know where I’m going. I like it’s a small world - annoying song and all. There would have been quite a thrill trying to see if I could run the marathon on Sunday, instead I’m in going to float round the course in my little boat waving at small people. 

Then maybe once all this is over and I come back and start actually training I can go back to writing blogs which make sense....I’ll take bets on that if you like 😉 

From acorns grow....

....a couch to 50 miles plan? 

Safe to say I’ve fallen out of running, I knew it was happening but it still felt a surprise just how much I haven’t felt like running. Those who know me will know how much I hate the term running mojo, especially as this has nothing to do with mojo. I haven’t lost my mojo. I’m not sure I even had any mojo to start. But I have stopped enjoying running, or feeling motivated to run. That said I haven’t let it worry me. I’ve had enough to worry about. 

It’s amazing how people who are apparently “inspirations” to others can fail to inspire themselves. Even doing the simplest of things like a parkrun has been beyond me. Unless I was safely protected by the blue and white of the Run Director vest. Running sucks has become my new mantra. I even bought my wife a medal hanger for Christmas with those words emblazoned across it. But running doesn’t suck does it? I wouldn’t have run 9 marathons, an ultra and hundreds of training runs if it sucks? I mean that would be a complete waste of all our times and you reading this blog....wouldn’t it?

So I let the running slip without worrying. In December I had my first ever DNS - which was sad as it was the anniversary of my first ever race, just 5 miles but I decided to help at Park Wood junior parkrun instead (after the advice of quite a few others!)

 

Then I had my second, when I knew there was just no way I could run 10 miles on New Years Eve....not least because I was on the second weekend of a triple whammy of RD at Maidstone parkrun and supporting my wife be ED at juniors! 

But I knew we had a new year just around the corner and more than that, I had already started making plans for this new year. My 10th marathon is to be a foreign affair - travelling to Cyprus for the Limassol marathon. My second ultra is to be in June, where I shall attempt to Race to the Tower without stopping - just 50 miles (see above reference to a couch to 50 mile plan!) and then an adventure to Scotland with my running buddy Jules, for the Loch Ness Marathon in September. These things will require me to run....so I gather! 

Which means I’ve had to run. I’ve had to start again. Your fitness isn’t lost completely but your VO2 max does drop after 2 weeks of not running. My last run was the Ashford 666 (a great race by the way as how many races do you have to climb a hill using a rope?) and it was tough, mainly as it fell amongst my extended period of not running. After I completed Beachy Head marathon I had only run 50km (including the 666) until the end of 2017. That used to be nearly my weekly amount!

I’m not stupid, I know I’m starting almost from scratch - which meant I’m being kind to myself, re evaluating my training plan. Starting with a 3k route which was the identical route to the first one I ever ran outside. That time it took me over 40 minutes to complete so I should be happy with the 26 minutes I managed on Thursday. Today I went further, I ran just over 5 miles. My lungs have been burning, my legs - actually not too bad. I’m run/walking and I know I’ll go out for another run, and another, and another. 

Yet it’s different, I don’t feel under pressure. I haven’t wanted to run alone or with people for months. But I did a few runs in that quiet period with the selfies and it wasn’t so bad. I’m pretty sure they’ll still be waiting for me when I get back! For this January I’m going to run alone. Then I’ll reach out for someone to run with. Or walk with. Or run/walk with. Or I won’t. I’ll take stock and see how I’m feeling, where I am. 

I’ve changed a lot in these past few months. Not just because I haven’t been running, but because I’ve been learning about what I need to live my life. To be freer, fuller - overthrowing the tyranny of the shoulds and being myself. It’s fun - you should try it!