From Birth to Bath

So what happens when you look at yourself and know you need to change… you book a half marathon, which you will be running 8 months post-birth.  Insane? Possibly, but whatever sane is, doesn’t sit well with a runner….  Any runner reading this will know what I mean. This is my story, what happened to me, I can’t quite believe it myself looking back, but here goes…

 

I’d avoided the mirror for quite some time post-birth, but when I did, I had quite a slap round the face, who on earth was this person, I didn’t recognize myself at all.  Never been skinny, but never been overweight either, I’d been a UK size 12 for years, and if those got tight, then I would just cut back a bit, or up my exercise, always worked.  However at 41 years of age and after years of IVF drugs, and specifically in the last year, a lack of activity in fear of not carrying (it’s a whole long sordid story that I won’t go into) but I needed to have a plan to find myself again, it suddenly became very important to me.  I wanted to feel strong again, and being an older Mum (41 when I had my daughter) want to have the energy to keep up with my daughter.

 

My Running Story.....So far!

I started my running adventure on Oct 2nd 2013 at the age of 41. Weighing in at around 14 stone, I had kept fairly active but nothing strenuous, plenty of walking, but no running, basically not too fit.

The inspiration to start running was my wife, she completed the Sheff 10K the month before, she had been pestering me to start running, I gave all the usual excuses, my knees, my ankles, my legs, no time, cant run…. Eventually I caved in, bought some running shoes and planned my first run.

So Oct 2nd 2013, I left my front door, ran 2 miles very very slowly and made it back home. I was so out of breath and in pain I thought never again, but then the ‘runners high’ kicked in, got my breath back and told absolutely everyone about it (yeah boring I know). The run itself I cannot remember too much about, but I really did think I would have to go back to recover my lungs, liver and maybe a kidney which I thought I’d left behind on the tarmac.

The First Mile

As some of you may know I started running on the 24th April 2012.

Now it is not that I had never run before, I'd been a half decent 200m runner in my youth and dabbled every now and again but with no real commitment.

On this date I had told myself that I was going to become a runner and had already booked a half Marathon for that October.

Day One

Now obviously to do this I needed to train, and indeed I needed somewhere to start. I checked out a plan that told me to start with 1km combined running and walking.

Running and walking? it was only 1km I could run that with my eyes closed!

I set out full of optimism and promise, "This doesn't feel bad" I thought as I ran out of my road, that was where the good feelings stopped, I ran and walked the 1km, breathing was heavy, legs were heavier, suddenly running a full 1km looked a challenge, and as for a mile !!! well.

I was mortified, what the hell had gone wrong? It took me 3 days to want to try again, I hadn't realised how much fitness I had lost since stopping coaching youth football and my desk/car based job did not help. I had now booked myself to run 13.1 miles when I couldn't even run a bath!

I had thought the challenge had been "Just" to run a half marathon, 13.1 miles, what I hadn't realised was I'd actually signed up to a countless list of challenges that were going to hit me each week until I got to the race.

So there I began, the 1k went from walking and running to shuffling and running to a kind of weird fartlek with a rather indescrible non running element.
Finally I ran the full 1k, pleased as punch but that was just metric, I needed to get to the full imperial mile.

My progress such as it was continued, there were many "Shit there's someone I know" moments and times when I thought my ultimate goal was impossible but finally I hit the full one mile.
Punching the air, alone on a country road in a "Rocky at the top of steps" stylie, I was elated, all I had to do then was add another 12.1 one of those and I'd cracked it.

I've had a few not so great runs recently which is what made me think back to this. If you're only just starting to run believe and persevere it's worth it, if you're a seasoned runner having a dip in running fortunes, think back to your first mile and how you got there.

Happy Running

Paul

10 ways to fool a challenging mindset that you are a runner!

We all have that inner chimp who sometimes tells you that you are wasting you time and fooling yourself into believing you can run, but, here are 10 ways to send the chimp packing!

1) Look the part - Get yourself some nice running gear, now I don't mean go all clingy lycra or tiny shorts to emulate an Olympian, I mean find yourself some stuff you like, that you feel comfortable in and you don't mind being seen puking at the side of the road wearing.

2) Shades - These are essential, apart from the obvious benefits of protecting your eyes from sunlight and dust and the lovely effects of hayfever, they also hide the pain in your eyes as you pass an elderly couple whilst running uphill, therefore avoiding sympathetic glances.

3) Wave - Be friendly, wave enthusiastically and call hello to anyone you happen to pass, it's ok to collapse in a heap once they are out of sight, but that little bit of bravado will have got you the extra few yards.

Starting Again with Fi

I’m back at the start again.  I mean right back.  Where each run is hard.  Where you can’t breathe.  Where walking seems to be interrupted by run breaks.  The beginning.

I first started running in January 2013 but only started to enjoy it and see improvements during spring last year.  I ran my first ever half marathon and started taking chunks off my times for all distances.  Things were great. I loved running.  Total love with a capital L.  Spending every waking moment planning runs, talking about runs, even dreaming about running.  The wheels fell off when I got injured while training for Manchester marathon.  I completed it but it wasn’t the race I’d hoped for.

I didn’t run for a few weeks.  Recovery I told myself.  Then a few more weeks.  The unthinkable had happened.  I’d fallen out of love.  Four months on and I’m still not really running.  I’m still avoiding Strava.  I haven’t uploaded a run in weeks, despite previously being mildly obsessive about it. 

I admit it, I’m not really enjoying running. Although, I am still enjoying the women’s running group I lead.  I love encouraging them and seeing their confidence grow.  I’m still loving running with friends, despite feeling miserable and inadequate at how much I slow them down.  I’m still devouring information about running – swallowing running blogs and magazines whole.  In fact, I still love everything about running.  Apart from actually doing it. 

I have the summer ‘off’ with no races ahead of me.  Whereas autumn is packed with endurance events.   I am not prepared to let this go without a fight.  So I’m taking the first steps.  Taking the advice of a good friend to have fun and slow it down. 

On Tuesday I ran an easy 5k at over a minute slower than I’ve been attempting.  It was easy, comfortable, fun.  I followed up with a happy early morning 4 miles at the same pace.  All good.

 

 

So it’s time for a new plan.  I need to practice mindful running.  Focussing on the here and now.  The run I am on.  There is no point looking forward to my autumn races and panicking about the gulf between where I am and where I need to be.  There is even less point in looking back and mourning the pace and stamina that I had.  I can only work with what I have now.  So I’m here at the beginning, starting again.

Fi x