My time

Here we are then, in two weeks I’ll be in Fuerteventura. In fact at this time I should have completed the first leg of the Half Marathon Des Sables, probably about 20 miles. (They don’t tell you exact distances until you get out there). I’ll be cooking my dinner on the little stove I’ve carried with me, a fine dehydrated mac n’ cheese and preparing to settle into my bivouac in my ultra light sleeping bag. Ready to get up and face the longest stage - roughly 40 miles over the volcanos and sand. 

I won’t go back and remind everyone what’s led me to this point. Or will I? You may not know I entered the race a year ago now. It was going to be the end highlight of a year of great achievements for me. My dream race The Wall, 69 miles in the summer. Another crack at the London Marathon, with the hope that maybe I could even get a PB (first time I’ve admitted that!). A few more ultras thrown in and then the Half MDS followed by my favourite Royal Parks. All raising money for Breast Cancer Now - who I’ve fundraised for now for nearly 2 years, raising nearly £5000! 

(https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JoFrazerWise)

But most of that hasn’t happened. There have been 7 DNS (Did not Start) and 1 DNF (Did not Finish) so far this year. I ran in London. I certainly didn’t get a Personal Best. The Wall was one of the DNS. But I have 3 races left this year - Half MDS, Royal Parks Half and the Pilgrims Challenge in November a 3 day ultra back to back 30 milers. 

Throughout all of this I’ve been off sick from work for 5 months with depression and PTSD. Returned to work. Been on anti-depressants, taken myself off anti-depressants. Put on over 2 stone in weight (cause of said anti-depressants I’m now not on!). Some days I’ve been able to run. Some days I’ve not been able to get out of bed. All the time watching my dreams for the year come and go. Part of the pain. But knowing the Half MDS was still on the horizon. Achievable if I could just get myself there. 

(Sow Ay https://sow-ay.tumblr.com/)

And here I am. Two weeks out. Ready to go. It can no longer be the way I imagined it. My weight, although going down, is still probably a lot more than the average competitor. My fitness is returning but not fast enough to make a huge difference. I am strong in my legs because they know they’ve done far more than this (Race to the Tower a case in point). But am I strong enough in my mind? Can I really do this? 

Yes I bloody can! I’m on a long road to recovery but the Half MDS has become part of that. It is achievable. It’s achievable for anyone. Not just me. I confess I have moments of crisis, mainly as I really wanted to do well. But define well. Is well completing it in a time that is respectable? Or is well just completing it? Knowing that only 2 months ago you couldn’t imagine getting through the day and now you’re going to run 120km with everything you need in a 6kg bag on your back? Everyone says it’s enough to just complete it. I know in my heart of hearts I don’t believe that. But right now, right here - that’s all I have. I know myself. I know I will always feel that disappointment that this year fell away from me. But only in my running. In my life this year should be the year that makes me. The year I finally confront the demons inside my soul and say “enough”. Perhaps the year I am able to complete the Half MDS and realise this was enough. That looking at others race times, achievements and feeling I’m not good enough is just that nasty parrot on my shoulder. It’s not the truth. It’s not my truth. Nor is it your truth. We are good enough. 

Which led me out to the beautiful Kentish Greensand Way on Sunday for a 21 mile kit test. Technically it was a run but my pace is probably the average persons walk, I was basing it on trying to get each 5k under the hour. Which I achieved. I stopped and took photos. I stopped for chats. I texted Jules playing i-spy as we both went out on our runs with photos....I went 21 miles in pretty much the time it took me to run the London marathon this year 6 hrs 30 minutes. And that’s good enough. It has to be. It will be. It can be. 

Which means off I go. I now declare I am officially tapering. I’ll do some parkruns and a few more kit checks but with less than 13 days to go I declare myself ready. This is my time to achieve something. Not the something I planned. But something for me. Something I can hold on to and say - you know in a year of proper shit I did that. I crawled out of the darkness and went up a volcano! Deep down I may not believe it’s a great achievement, but one day I will and I know you’ll all tell me it is anyway so I’ll believe you. I promise. With that I want to thank my amazing cheer squad, those I know in person and those that virtually slap me most days through Twitter. You know who you are. You know that i probably wouldn’t even be here without you. And you know that I’ll think of you when I’m re-hydrating my chicken tikka masala and then the next day trying to find somewhere for a shit as I run!! 

Happy Holidays

First, I want to say a huge thank you for the response to my last blog post. I can’t believe how many people read it and then took time to contact me either publicly or privately. Safe to say it’s had the biggest impact of all my posts - I’ve been keeping this blog for about 5 years now but clearly nothing has reached such a big audience. I guess my mental illness is far more interesting than my running....

Whatever it is that brought you to read that post, I hope maybe you’ll flick back through some of the older posts or keep reading. I try and do a post once a month, as the mood takes me. They are about running, but actually always about a little bit more than that and probably the best way I have of showing the world me. I’m not very good at talking face to face and can easily hide behind words, which flow off onto the page very easily for me. Lots of you said “wow that must have been hard to write” - well it never is hard, it’s only hard to hit the share button and accept that people are going to read what I’ve written. I’ve plenty of things I never hit send on or delete seconds after writing, especially on twitter.

That said I’ve upped my Instagram game lately, using images and a few words seems a pretty safe way of sharing how I’m doing. 

So, how am I doing? Well I would love to say “woohoo, thank you, I’m amazing” - writing that blog brought it all together for me and with the therapy and medication things are really coming together. But, they aren’t. Not quite. Not yet. I’ve decided to taper off my medication. Mirtazapine just isn’t for me. It’s an old style anti-depressant. Not one of the SSRIs - I was on sertraline. But when I asked the Doctor to come off those she switched me “try these”. I’ve tried them. Since Feb. And alongside what can only be described as sleeping sickness (getting up any time before 10am is nearly impossible on this medication) I’ve had constant craving...(queue singing in your head). Food is a huge weakness for me. Comfort eating. Over eating. Eating. Being prescribed a medication on which 3 out of 5 people put on weight, that increases your cravings and inhibits the brain so you don’t know if you’re full. Well, that wouldn’t have been part of my plan at all. But no one told me this. I had to find it out on my own. Which is why, on my own I’ve made the decision to taper off the medication. 

If i can come of the medication and begin to lose some weight I KNOW I’ll feel better in my body. I may even start to run again. I’d like that. Listening to some audio books on holiday like My Shit Therapist by Michelle Thomas and Running for My Life by Rachel Cullen has made me remember why I liked running. How good it made me feel. But I was nearly 2 stone lighter then. I’ve run twice on holiday and gone for a couple of long walks. They’ve been hard. I feel unfit. Out of shape. Yet I’ve enjoyed them. Actual joy. Taking time to look around me, feel the earth moving, the old sensation of time alone for me. Comfort. Without food. And right now I’m in need of comfort. 

Every year we come to Lesvos, Greece for two weeks. Last week of June, first week of July. It’s a rest from our crazy busy lives. Two weeks of sun, good food, good friends. As we’ve been coming here for 5 years we know lots of people and it’s like a home away from home. But this year, for me, it’s been different. I’ve not been at work since Feb. In fact I’ve barely left the house since then for longer than a weekend. Which meant coming away for two weeks created all sorts of anxiety. Plus, I’ve changed. The lid is off the bottle and it is never going back in. I’m not sure what me will pop out the other side of this journey, but I’m in transition. Which makes relating to others hard. Relaxing has never been my strong point. It’s why we come here, my wife can laze around the pool and I can go off and explore. Or run. But this year I’m still wrapped in the lethargy of depression. Staying safely in my room all morning sleeping feels the most I’m up to. Yet, I’ve surprised and surpassed myself in week one. Taking myself off - but it’s hot. Really hot. Like high 30s hot. So I’m limited in what I can actually get up to. 

As it is I’ve managed to find some routine. Sleeping late. Joining my wife at the pool for a little while. But also using my Positivity Planner and Diary - keeping a log of how I’m feeling, what I’m doing. And now also taking myself off to the Kantina to sit and be myself. By myself. 

That said our friends here have been wonderful. Giving me space. But also letting me know they’re here, if I need them and that it’s okay. They understand. They read my last blog and it now all makes sense. See, these little ditties have a purpose. They help me connect when the thought of doing so in person is just too much. 

It’s hard though, when you’re on holiday and people think “oh, how wonderful” - yet it doesn’t feel wonderful. Yes, some of it really does but actually I can’t wait to get home. Although that in itself will take me back to work....the time has come to leave the comfort and safety of home and see if I can function again in the real world. Still with the safety of therapy. And days at home. I’m still posting happy holiday pics and hiding behind the lens that sprinkles rainbows onto life. But I’ve learned some very wise words this trip from books and others. 

When talking, if you’ve got something to say - stick to these three rules - is it kind? Is it necessary? And is it true? 

And hold on. Even if it hurts. Even if you think those who love you would be better off without you. Please hold on. Please stay with us. We need you. 

I can’t thank Michelle Thomas enough for these words. Even if I had the embarrassment of sobbing into my sunbed as I listened to them. But I wrote them down and I’m repeating them over and over. Every day since I’ve heard them. And if you hear them too and need to hear them. Then hold on. If we all hold on together then who knows what we could achieve?

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 😉 

Holding out for a Hero

It's over. Two marathons in two weeks. Fundraising. Training. Job done. End of blog. 
But it's never that simple is it - my blog isn't about race reviews, or trying to entice you into running. Instead I'm trying to give you an insight into how someone who was 18 stone, inactive and had no thoughts of running has reached 7 Marathons. But also what that means emotionally, how it fits into the context of life. And I like to make you laugh (now and then).
It seems fitting I've started writing this whilst Mind Over Marathon is on BBC1 - the inspirational stories of 10 people with mental health issues training for the London Marathon. I live my life knowing what you see in someone isn't always what's going on underneath. You can't tell where someone has been and what's got them there. My personal experience is just that - personal and there's a reason I make sure I smile around every race I do. One day that may too make it into a blog.
Running has changed my life, it gives me a renewed purpose. Freedom. Space to breath. Oh and to eat cake. I love connecting with people through running. Everyone with different goals but respecting those goals and knowing they're all as valid. It also helps you deal with the unexpected. Things never quite go to plan. Paris was super hot, beautiful - well organised, full of fun and one to enjoy. I felt strong and enjoyed every moment from the early stages running with Liz to the later parts dodging walkers and taking selfies.

London though I had a goal. I wanted to help Danny achieve his PB. We would all run together and celebrate in the moment at the end. There was never a moment in my life I imagined standing at the start of the London marathon with a large group of friends. Taking selfies. Laughing. Feeling like it's a regular Sunday run. The sun was shining and it was already feeling like a special day. Somehow in running I've discovered I'm really good at pacing. So that was my role. Keep us at a steady pace. Not going off too fast and finish strong. Oh and have a bloody good laugh whilst we did it.


Well plans sometimes change. And perfect pacing is great until injury strikes and you need to re-evaluate. It would turn into one of those days. The why's and wherefores don't matter. But needless to say Danny is an ultimate hero as nothing would stop him reaching that finish and I just wanted to do it with him. My mind was cast back to Beachy when I struggled so much and Jules stuck with me. Today that's what I wanted to do for Danny! So we ran from physio to physio. Friends to friends supporting. Laughing. Cheering. Waving. A slightly unfortunate run-in with a portaloo in one tunnel (a few drinks may get you that story!) The occasional swear word and at the end a few tears. It was my favourite run ever. It was everything that running is for me. And it was everything that running has given me.

Everyone who runs a marathon is a hero. They aren't easy. Although I've run 7 I'm still amazed it's something I do, something I can do, something I enjoy to do. You have to dig into places that come from years of discovering what your resolve is built on. I've been lucky to date - I've got through fairly unscathed but I've learned to admire and respect those who have to dig just that little bit more as things don't go to plan. So congratulations to everyone that crossed the finish on Sunday - be it London or somewhere else. Let's see what we can do next!


Thank you to everyone that sponsored me for these two runs. I was running for New Family Social - a small charity for whom I'm their only runner. But many LGBT families who foster or adopt will all benefit from your generosity.
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JoFrazerWise

Your Pace or Mine?

Get a grip Jo! Seriously what are you doing - it's just a run round the block. Stop having a breakdown. I mean what could it be - shoes, end of day tiredness, fact haven't eaten since lunch, the giant hill you just tried to run up? Or are you genuinely now no longer able to run? 

I mean come on you've got two marathons in 10 weeks time and this time last year you were bashing out times. Clearly you've let yourself go....and look that bloody running group you created is FULL of people who are doing amazing things. Running fast, far and having loads more fun than you. They're confident and happy in their running world when all you want to do is sit in the corner and rock, cry or worse. 

But you have been here before. You've written loads of blogs on the subject and know you can do this. Right? I mean just because you can't run further than 5k without walking doesn't matter. Right? After all who is judging you? Who is here right now telling you this is a disaster? Is anyone waiting to study your Strava time and see if you're trending faster? Nobody. Not one person you know. Oh wait - yes that's you! You are judging yourself. Against everyone and anyone and most especially against yourself....stop it. 

I mean this isn't why you started running is it? This isn't what got you down to SRC, becoming an avid parkrunner and seeking out all those online communities - UKrunchat, Run Mummy Run, BOSH? You wanted to get fit and have fun. You didn't even know what a race was - but you've done loads. And this year is about the longer goal - Paris, London, Dorchester, Beachy with a smile on your face. Every weekend you put a shirt on that says "running at the speed of chat" - it was a badge of pride once. Not something to feel guilty about. 

It's brilliant that we're all different and if your goals are different - if seeking PBs isn't as important as just surviving a run then that's okay. It doesn't make you worse than anyone. It shouldn't make you feel bad. Stop feeling bad! I mean Yoda has a lot to answer for. "Do or do not. There is no try." Well come on that was said to Luke as he didn't believe in himself. But you do. You know what's important. It's okay to try and keep trying. Sometimes you won't make it. But sometimes you will. After all what message do you want beginners to get - what message are we giving to all those new parkrunners or community members - get out and run. No matter what. No matter how fast. How "slow". How far or how short. Enjoy it and if you want to shoot further then do it. But it doesn't have to be everything. All of the time. Only if you want it to be. And never, ever ever feel bad if that's not for you! 

Okay. It's all downhill from here so you can get home. You can do this. You can't post a pithy Strava title that hides the pain that you've been through on this run. You can take a selfie. Smile and think that 10k you've got in a week will be okay. If you walk. So what? Smile. Laugh. Get round. Then get round the next. And the next. And the next. Apparently this will still get you to the finish in Paris and London. Cause in the end you're a happy little jogger - not a professional runner so the smile at the beginning, middle and end is all that really matters! 

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JoFrazerWise

Let the training commence!

I wanted to blog last weekend but life got in the way, which means I've had two weeks of mixed fortunes but ultimately ending on a high. 

Week One
Monday 28 April Sweatshop Community Run turned out to be a crucial day in my preparation for Brighton Marathon 2015. First I met a running legend - Wendy Sly who won silver in the women's 3000 meters in LA 1984. It was the race made famous by Zola Budd and Mary Decker. Wendy was lovely and shared running stories as well as letting a bunch of sweaty, post 5k runners manhandle her medal. 

But it was who she was with that made the biggest impact that night - I met my first running coach (in the flesh, there are loads of you on Twitter) from RunFit a local outfit that provide advice, courses and general good stuff to runners across Kent and elsewhere. I was chatting about my running and that I had entered Brighton (did I mention yet I'm running a marathon?!) and he said quite simply "start training now". Clearly I looked slightly bemused and he explained that most people leave it till the usual 18 week plan but that actually if I just start increasing my miles from now to 12/15 in my long run then it will make all the difference. He went on to say that then all I'd need to do is work on my speed (ha ha how I laughed at that) but his words stuck in my mind. Don't leave it too late, it will be harder in winter and post-Christmas so get the miles going now. 

So, last Sunday with Ian's words ringing in my ears I set about my long run along the tow path. I had a target in mind - I wanted to run 10 miles again (something I hadn't done since my first 10 mile race on Good Friday). I wasn't worried about time and I had my new water bottle belt to make sure I didn't let thirst get between me and the distance. I even had tissue, to either wipe the SIS gel from my face or use for any emergency stops. 

This time I didn't get the weather wrong and wore the right clothing, had my headphones as fancied music and was going without my Garmin as it was still at the UPS office having been thrown across the kitchen by my wife and sent away for repair. 

All that led to a pretty epic run - everything worked a treat, I even paused to do my first ever UKrunchat moment (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8I3JhlDvWMQ) and I didn't get thrown when my Nike+ app had a complete mental breakdown and stopped working. (The kind of thing that would have thrown me completely a few weeks ago). But more importantly I just kept running. The legs felt strong, I felt wonderful and although it wasn't fast I smashed out 11 miles in 1hr 48 minutes. Best thing was I felt like I could have run on and my Royal Parks Half in October holds little fear. What a way to end the week and start my road to Brighton....

Week Two
After such an epic week I had wonderful words of advice for my blog all prepared, I was a week away from my next race and it was a bank holiday weekend. Life was great. Running life was better. Then on Monday I felt absolutely awful, sick to my stomach - was it the long run or was it something else? Who knows, but it signalled the start to a week I'd rather forget. 

Long working hours, high stress, intense food and chocolate consumption and dare I say terrible PMT (sorry anyone who likes poo blogs but not period blogs!) So as soon as my high hit I was in a real running slump. I did get my Garmin back like a long lost friend but I didn't run all week, no SRC - nothing to give me my mojo back. Till Friday when I realised that the 9 May was exactly one year since I'd ventured outside to run for the very first time! 

I remember it so clearly, I'd run on the treadmill at the gym a few times and people had started to say "try outside it's so different". So at 6.06am I set off on my normal morning walk around the park with a plan to run in the middle. I had my old walking app going and when I got to the part of the park that is fairly flat off I set. I did a 2.18 mile route in 30:09. So in celebration on Friday I got up early for a change, put my running gear on and this time ran from my front door as I always do now. Same route with happy memories of my burning lungs, the struggle up the small hills, the fact I carried a water bottle back then. I did the 2.18 mile route in 19:28 with my fastest ever kilometre and mile at the beginning! Woohoo I was back!

And to today - the latest race in my desire to collect medals (if only someone had told me this happened I'd have started running years ago) - Larkfield 10k. Not the best prep as I had an unfortunate incident with a red-hot-straight-out-the-oven mini-sausage roll yesterday afternoon which has left me slightly scarred but I figured I'd set off and see how I felt. 

Fact is turns out I felt GREAT! Running without my Garmin for a couple of weeks has helped my pacing but with her back on my wrist and with the knowledge that if I stuck on Tim Carr's heals I'd set a good time (thanks Tim).  The fact at 5k I was still with him and had run it in 28 minutes and felt good I knew that beating my personal best of 56:06 was on. As the finish came in sight and I saw the clock ticking through 56:02, 03, I started to panic - set off my now obligatory sprint finish - crossed the line with a look of huge disappointment (won't be posting those photos) and then remembered GUN TIME! Finish time on my chip 55:48 - I'm in the 55s?!!!

Which all adds up to a few simple lessons:
Whether I like it or not I'm now officially training for a marathon. 
There are good weeks and bad weeks. 
The bad weeks really aren't that bad. 
I'm never going to be able to give up chocolate!

Oh and best news of all - seems my wife is picking up the running bug and knocking parkrun PBs off to boot!