I hope you’re all having a lovely Christmas day. Mine’s been quiet and nice. Most of it spent preparing Christmas dinner and eating it and then we watched the first Fantastic Beasts film which I like. I’d like a niffler – they’re a good mix of cuddly and mischievous.
Anyway we started our Christmas with a short run at Bolton Abbey when Kath finished work yesterday. Just a mile out and a mile back weaving round people on the out and choosing the top path to avoid them on the way back. I could definitely feel the weekend’s 11 + 17 miles in my legs but nothing was hurting or even achey – just a bit tired and heavy. It was the perfect stretch of legs on a perfect, lovely day.
Christmas Day began with a short run. It was still pretty much dark when we set off. Just at the end of our road we bumped into a lovely little dog called Rosie and her human and stopped to say Merry Christmas. Then we plodded on towards the canal towpath and along the silvery magic of the early morning canal. No people, just moonlight, a few ducks and some geese.
We walked up the former golf course and stopped for a Christmas morning kiss half way up the first slope. As we were about to carry on we heard deer off to one side – we saw a hint of movement but nothing more. We walked on up and then through the wood and stopped briefly when our favourite tree came into view.
Then we jogged down the other side until we got to about 2.25 miles and a formerly icy puddle which marked my 800 year to date miles spot.
800 miles. I feel a bit overwhelmed by that. I’ve done it without chasing the miles or pushing and I still have a few days left even! So maybe 1000 miles in on for 2019 and I am very much looking forward to having fun trying and taking the pledge again.
Anyway, Christmas morning started with a really lovely run and I went because I wanted to not because it justified my Christmas dinner or something silly like that. I went because being out on a foggy, dark morning like today makes you believe that there is just a touch of magic in the world. And who doesn’t need that!
Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness… so I can’t quite put into words just how excited I am about this. I’m jumping up and down squealing kind of excited and a little choked up and overwhelmed. But let’s go back a bit. In November Trail Running Magazine asked for expressions of interest for becoming an ambassador for the 2019 iteration of their Run1000Miles challenge. I paid no attention. Kath commented on the post saying she nominated me, I still paid no attention because, come on, it’s me. I’m no running ambassador. But there were lots of positive comments and ‘likes’ and encouragement so I thought what the hell and sent the email.
I didn’t expect to get picked. I am not the obvious choice when you think ‘running’ so not an obvious choice for promoting a running challenge or for encouraging others. I’m not your typical running role model or poster girl for physical activity. I thought that maybe I could be a good ambassador precisely because I’m not what you might expect in that role and it seems that some agreed. So let me tell you a bit about the challenge, a bit about me and the challenge and a bit about why being an ambassador for it means the world and confirms everything I love about the challenge and the group.
The challenge is simple. Sign up, join the facebook group, run, track your miles, post about your runs, share pictures, encourage others, be encouraged, see where you get to, done. Some will reach 1000 miles before Easter, others won’t get to 500 in the year. It doesn’t matter, it’s about the journey (sounds nauseatingly cliched, I know but it’s true). It’s about having a great running year however you define ‘great’. It’s about getting outside, enjoying being out, about encouraging and being encouraged, about learning and sharing and most of all about enjoying running.
I first joined Run1000Miles in 2017. Kath had joined and she kept saying how lovely the group was and that I should join. I just thought it wasn’t for me – it’s a 1000 mile challenge by Trail Running Magazine – not for me. 1000 miles was so far beyond my imagination and trails were and often still are scary things that cause me to fall over and/or freak out. But then curiosity got the better of me and I joined and lurked in the Facebook group for a bit and I realised that the group of people were my kind of people. I’d found my running tribe. They welcomed me, slow, ploddy, fat, scared of trails me into the group and they were (and still are!) prepared to share my little successes and wins, help me through my tricky patches when it seemed me and running were going our separate ways and share their experience and knowledge to make me a better runner. With their help and encouragement and, frankly, their belief in me I pushed myself through a tough 7 miler on News Years Eve 2017 to finish the year on exactly 500 miles.
I was excited to sign up for 2018. I really wanted to try and run more miles. I won’t make 1000 but I’m going to get closer than I ever thought possible. 1000 miles was my wildest dreams goal, my ambitious but possibly realistic goal A was 750 miles (I had B and C goals to but they don’t matter now!). I’m less than 5 miles away from achieving the 750 now. I love the group on Facebook. There is a notable absence of arrogant, patronising, rude or all of the above twats. There is a genuine understanding and acceptance that we are all at different levels and that my lightening fast run pace might well be someone else’s slow recovery jog; that a mile can be a huge challenge and covering it a big win; that miles and pace and hours are just numbers. I am in awe of some of the runners in the group – some because they’re fast, some because they can go so far, some because they can go so high (and come back down in one piece), some because they deal with mud like it’s nothing, some because they get up every morning and despite (and sometimes because of) the demons we all have pull their trainers on and run. Most of all though I have valued the the stories, the encouragement, the support and the inspiration and I have loved being able to be a part of that.
Having me as a 2019 ambassador confirms that I was right about the trail running community and particularly the community we have built in the Run1000Miles Facebook group – it really is for all of us. It doesn’t matter where in our running journeys we are. It doesn’t matter how fast or slow we go, how much we walk, where we run, whether we can run far or not, whether we can run vertically up and back down, whether we splash through puddles or slide through mud, get stuck in boggy moors or stumble our way through woodland tree roots. What matters is that we all run and get outside and that is somehow important to us in and that we understand that and that we support each other and celebrate each other’s successes. I don’t have any sort of sporting memories that go anywhere near that so I’m making new ones and maybe as ambassador I can help others re-write their relationship with exercise and running in particular.
Join me – sign up here and then join the Facebook Group and see for yourself – try it, you might just surprise yourself by running a whole lot more than you thought you could.
September has been a miserable running month really. It started so well. It started with relatively happy running and a decent build up to the Great North Run and then overall a solid GNR and an awesome post GNR run and then I got this hideous cold/flu/chest/throat thing. Then I thought I was getting better and got out for a 5 miles come-back run which I loved and then I wasn’t better so I have now had 3 weeks with hardly any running and it is annoying the hell out of me.
I will finish September on 31.2 miles – my worst mileage month by over 10 miles. I am stuck on 532.51 miles and my hope of reaching 800 miles for the year is slipping away. I am behind on my Dopey Challenge training plan, I am losing fitness, I’ll be putting on weight (I haven’t bothered getting on the scales this morning for my Sunday Weigh-In because I actually just don’t want to know today). I have spent three weeks mostly on the sofa and trying to push through to get work stuff done and keep things ticking on as best I can so I don’t get even further behind. In short, I’m grumpy.
I’ve had two back to back nights of 11 hours sleep and I think I am beginning to feel a bit more human again. I’m working at home tomorrow so will aim for the same again! There are still extraordinary amounts of snot but I don’t feel poorly today. Tempting as it is to pull the trainers on I am resting today. Tomorrow evening I’ll be off to my yoga class for the first time in what feels like forever and then on Tuesday I am back on the training plan – 45 minute run. I should be ok. I was half marathon fit for the GNR and I have only missed one long run of 13 miles so while it might not be pretty I should manage the next scheduled long run of 15 miles if I take it nice and steady. I know I have time, I know I don’t have to go the full distance as dictated by my training plan and that I could afford to drop back to the previous long mileage on the plan but not running is playing havoc with my head. The enormity of taking on Dopey is there in the back of my mind and I don’t want to just drag my butt round, I want to enjoy it. Or at least most of it. Chances of enjoying ESPN Wide World of Sports are pretty minimal – it’s the part of the marathon I am least looking forward to – though if I can make it through that I’ll finish!
So, it’s 100 days until we fly out to Florida. 100 days to get Dopey fit. I’ve just been looking back and in 2015 I had flu a little later than this cycle and I still got myself Dopey fit (ish). I should stop worrying and just get on with getting better and then get the training done. I know I can do this, now I just need to believe it.
It has been a funny old week. Well actually it hasn’t, or at least I haven’t been able to find anything funny about it. It’s probably been hilarious. The foggy tiredness started to descend on Sunday evening; a vague darkness settling, clinging, making itself at home. The black pup had, somehow unnoticed, crept into the room. She was asleep in the corner and I was cross I hadn’t seen her coming in. I went to bed. Maybe she wasn’t really there, maybe I was just tired (‘nah, I’m here, you know that kinda tired, it’s me).
Monday. Bank Holiday Monday. Monday was supposed to be long run and sort our shit out day. We were due to do 11 miles. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting up but eventually did and put my running kit on and then froze. I was rooted to the spot. There was no way I was going OUTSIDE. I mean seriously – like OUTSIDE? Freezing had nothing to do with running or the distance. I was quite happy about the idea of plodding along for 11 miles with my run/walk intervals, it was actually quite appealing but it would mean LEAVING THE HOUSE. Fuck no. The pup lifted her head: ‘Hi!’
I spent most of the morning on the sofa while Kath went and did the food shop and after a little while I started to want to run. When Kath got back I got changed and considered the possibility of leaving the house. Hm. The pup looked up again ‘Hi! You going out? Nah you’re not really are you’. I hesitated, she might be right. I hovered in the kitchen a little. Kath opened the door and gently nudged me out of it. I stood there for a minute or two and if Kath hadn’t been between me and the door I probably would have run back in. Instead we set off gently jogging down the street and I settled into a steady rhythm. I kept running for the entire 3.75 miles and then we walked up the hill home stopping for blackberries here and there. It was a definite win. It wasn’t 11 miles but it was a run. The pup was sulky and she was zapping all my energy.
Tuesday I worked from home and the plan was to run from Bolton Abbey to Burnsall after work. I was looking forward to it. I had an ok day. The pup was in the room and she lifted her head every now and again but generally kept quiet. She was there though. She was making me tired. We set off to go on our run. The route is stunning and I was looking forward to it. The run/walk intervals were set to 2 minutes run and 30 seconds walk. We set off. I felt tired and creaky but I was sure I’d settle. I’m not quite sure when the negative chatter started. The puppy was bouncing along enjoying her time out and pointing out that I was feeling creaky. ‘Tight calf muscles?’ she would giggle periodically ‘comes from being unfit that’. The first mile was soooo slow. At least that’s what I thought. ‘Wow so slow?’. I tried to reason – lots of the route had been uphill, it was undulating generally… the pace was actually fine but I couldn’t shake the negativity. With every step it got worse.
I knew I was physically fine. Logically I knew that. I also knew that I was running well within myself, I knew the route was gorgeous, I knew…. but I couldn’t make myself believe it. By just under 4 miles I felt dead on my feet. It all felt totally pointless. The pup was bouncing round in circles – ‘you can’t do it, you can’t do it’. I decided to pull out of the Great North Run. I decided to bin long distance running. We stopped for a minute or two and I took a few deep breaths and kicked the pup. She growled but took off and I got my act together for a bit and kept going. By just over 4 miles she’d caught up and she was on form: ‘Can’t do it, can you? Soooo slow, you won’t make the cut off time. Wow, it’s a wonder that butt can move at all – have you seen the size of it?’ She was relentless. I was tired and I gave up. I was pretty sure that was it, no more running because it just makes me miserable. I wondered if I could sell my Dopey registration. We sat by the river for a few minutes.
Then we slowly started walking back. The pup found it all hilarious and bounced around mocking me. I felt silly. I wanted to try running a little more so we ran/walked a bit – sometimes sticking to the intervals, sometimes just going by feel. I tried to think rationally and logically about the run – prompted by some questions from Kath. Analysing it hushed the puppy a bit, she’s not keen on the science brain. Why did this run go so wrong mentally. Why could I not silence or at least quieten the negative chatter? Well, partly I think I had no plan. I assumed that because I had abandoned the idea of a long run on Monday that Tuesday would be the triumphant return to the distance. I had unrealistic expectations about pace based on the previous week’s 9 miles on the flat and when that just didn’t happen (and it was never going to) I had no plan B and because of the depression absolutely no mental energy to stop the negativity and self doubt. I need a Plan B and C and possibly D. What I should have been working with was that Plan A was to cover the distance at a strong pace using the intervals, maybe Plan B could have been to cover the distance using the intervals as set – whatever the pace; Plan C to cover the distance adding extra walks where needed…. If I hadn’t built up the run quite so much in my mind and had articulated (at least to myself) the possibility of other plans or other ways of running it, I may have had a chance. Maybe not, it may simply be that the puppy was too much for me on that day. In the end I still covered 8.8 miles and in the end it was within Disney Pace (16 minute mile is the pace requirement for the Disney races – it was 15 something or other). That should be a win. It felt like total failure.
Back at the car I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I felt dead on my feet and everything hurt. I felt like I could sleep for months. Back at home though I couldn’t settle and I didn’t sleep well. Wednesday I worked on a workbook for one of my modules (frustrating, templates, urgh) and then drove to Nottingham for a gorgeous few hours with my friend Bex. It was just what I needed and I think maybe the pup stayed here in West Yorkshire. I think maybe Bex terrifies her a bit so she left me alone for the day and it was nice, it felt like maybe the darkness was lifting a little, feeling less clingy. By the time I got back it wasn’t long before I went to bed. Thursday I worked from home again and I vaguely wondered about a run but I couldn’t shake the tiredness and the non-specific ache. We’d booked a yoga class in the evening and I spent most of the late afternoon looking for an excuse not to go. But we went. I was again creaky and not at all bendy or strong but it was good to have to leave the house and to spend some time focusing on nothing but trying to get into and hold the poses. Black pups aren’t allowed into the gym.
This morning I actually got shit done. Kath had an appointment at Bolton Abbey and I went with her and while she was there I went for a run. I was dubious. I wasn’t sure I was mentally any stronger than Tuesday. But I had a different plan. I knew I had about an hour and I had 3 possible routes. The shortest would only be about a mile or so but I decided that if I wasn’t enjoying it or I wanted to stop then that mile would be fabulous. The next loop would probably be about 4 and a half and the longer would add another mile onto that. I had also decided to leave the run/walk intervals as they were and see – my ‘rule’ was that with every beep I would consider changing the pace – that way I could run for longer than the two minutes or walk for longer or whatever but on every beep I would need to think about whether to change. I also decided I might take some photos (dotted through this post for you) and that I was absolutely not thinking about pace. In fact this wasn’t a run at all. It was an outing, it was an opportunity to move and be outside and enjoy myself. If running happened then that was great but, I told the pup quite firmly, we were most definitely not going for a run. ‘Yeah, that’s because you can’t’ she said but she seemed to lose interest.
I set off on the first running interval – all good. Then another, all good. Then I walked up a long sloping hill. Then I ran down the other side. And that’s how I continued – walking up, shuffling down, running on the flat, stopping for pictures. I didn’t stop after the mile loop, I kept going. I was doing our usual loop now but the wrong way round – I didn’t want any markers that might give me an indication that I was slower than usual. I didn’t want those visual clues to derail the positive of being out. I kept going. I went for the middle loop so crossed the Wharfe at the aqueduct and worked with the same pattern of run walk roughly to the beeps but sometimes running more and sometimes walking more. I chose the top path from the Strid and made good progress walking the up hill bits. Then there was a slight downhill and I started running and it suddenly felt different. It felt effortless. I only had 100 metres or so before I had to stop to cross a little bridge behind a couple walking their dogs. They let me past but then their dogs came with me so I had to return them. I felt sure the effortlessness must have been an illusion.
I set off running again. Nope, there it was again. Wow, running is easy. Everything
aligned. I was breathing easy, all the creakiness had gone, there was no heaviness in my legs, I was running easy and just for the hell of it. I think I picked up the pace a bit and I just kept going and it felt amazing and joyful and free and light. That last half mile is, I think what we run for – for those occasions when it all comes together and running feels more like flying. Then I was back at the Pavilion and slightly irritated by people getting in my way. I got coffee and waited for Kath and then I got work shit done while she went for a run. It was a good morning.
The pup is here though. She’s lounging about and every now and again lifts her head to say something less than nice or helpful. She’s making me tired – that relentless sort of tiredness. The darkness feels less clingy and I am slowly slowly regaining my sense of humour about some things. It will take time. The pup isn’t one to just pop in for a cuppa and then bugger off again. She’ll linger. After today though I feel more confident that she is actually sort of under control. Like a sprained ankle, I know she’s there and she is stopping me from functioning fully but really is not stopping me from doing that much. I just need to rest more and be kind to myself and be aware of her.
Today’s run also took me through 500 miles for the year so far. I’m now just over 501 miles. I am really proud of this. I managed 500 miles last year – on New Years Eve and exactly bang on so I have now officially done better than last year! I won’t make the 1000 of the #run1000Miles Challenge but that’s ok. I’m running more consistently than I was and I am fitter and stronger than I was – whether the black pup agrees or not!
It’s the day after Endure24 and other than a little bit tired and some ‘interesting’ chafing I feel pretty good. As promised in yesterday’s overview blog, here’s my story of my 6 laps. I didn’t do a picture round this year but the course was the same as last year so if you want to get a sense, have a look at my description of the course from then.
Lap 1
Ready!
For some reason I had decided I wanted to go first. No idea why really. So I lined up on the start line and set off with the crowd. It soon thinned out and I settled in towards the back of the pack. It was incredibly hot. The start section is a grassy very slightly uphill pull before you turn right down a nice gentle slope before turning quite sharp left into the first wooded section, the first bit of which is again gently uphill. Then you reach the Black Fen Drop and go downhill before the next right turn. Did I mention it was hot. I turned right and then walked a little. I might have got caught up in the running at the start and gone off a little too fast although I felt good. I went on running the shady flat and downhill bits and walking anything that was uphill and/or in full sun. It was hot. Just before the drinks comes a section called sheep rush – more like sheep pile up in the shade on this lap. They were all packed in as tight as they could under the trees at the edge of their field. I didn’t stop for drinks this time round although I sipped my own as I walked through that section. I chatted to a few solo runners on this lap
That Bloody Last Bit seen from the top
including Caroline who is also in the #Run1000Mile group, we walked Ripple Rise together and then somehow chatting with her and another lady that caught us up I managed to run up ‘That Bloody Last Bit’. So lap 1 was a success. I came in in 1 hour 5 minutes and 44 seconds and it felt like pretty easy running.
Lap 2
This was about 2pm. Kath had had a good run round but warned me to be really careful because it was so so hot. So my strategy was to run the downhill and flat (there isn’t much that is genuinely flat!) and also walk anything that was in full sun and just walk the rest. I was keen to just get a couple of gentle laps in and then have another good go at running one later when it cooled down a bit. I thought this might be a sociable lap just because I was walking lots but it wasn’t really. I was passed by lots of speedy people
The Deep Dark Wood Sign
running for their teams – all very impressive. I was just hot. It seemed hotter out there than on my first lap. I had one lovely chat with a solo lady who was walking. We chatted about how solos often team up and pairs and teams are sometimes more ‘solo’ than solos. I stopped for some water at the drinks station. The Deep Dark Wood just before had been a welcome bit of shade but it hadn’t really cooled me. I plodded on mostly walking and came in in 1 hour 13 something. I was happy but hot and very glad of the cooling towel Kath had for me.
Lap 3
I went out for Lap 3 at about 5pm ish. Guess what, still hot. I felt pretty good but didn’t want to go silly so my plan was the same as for the lap before. I thought there would be a few more shady areas now so I might run a little more. The first part of the lap was non eventful and I just happily plodded along. Then someone recognised my Dopey t-shirt for a Dopey Challenge T-shirt and we had a quick exchange about how awesome it was as she flew past me. There were lots of comments about Dopey on this lap – most people not knowing it was a Dopey Challenge T-shirt. Many identified with the sentiment and I got lots of ‘Go on Dopey’ and ‘Well Done Dopey’ calls as I plodded round. Going up Temple Drag I saw a stunning Dragon fly. It was enormous – bigger than I’ve ever seen and shimmering as the light caught it. It made me smile and for a minute or two I forgot I was hot. I saw another one at Sheep Rush. I stopped for a drink and a chat with the marshals and then plodded on past the 5km mark to the next set of marshals at the bottom of the next hill. They were offering water sprays – who knew a simple spray of water in your face and on the back of your neck could be sooooo amazing. Thank you! Plodding up the hill I suddenly smelled camomile. It took me a minute to realise that I was running on the edge of the field and that the grass was edged with the low growing creeping sort of camomile – I must have been disturbing it and making it smell. It was lovely though. The rest of the lap was just hot although as I came to the end I vaguely wondered if maybe it was cooling off a bit. I was also suddenly aware of discomfort on my knicker line and inner thigh. Hm
Lap 4
Before lap 4 I had to investigate the discomfort. Well it turns out that my thighs had won the material v thighs battle once again and my running tights had a hole in them running
Not a picture of my chafing!
from the knicker line down my inner thigh. This isn’t news to me, that’s how all my pants eventually die. Unfortunately though this one went without warning and caused some nasty chafing along the knicker line and down my inner thigh – like red raw kind of chafing. I hate vaseline. The consistency/ feel/ texture/ everything freaks me out. It’s vile. But there was nothing for it, vaseline it was going to have to be.
Patched up and in a different pair of pants I set off. Partly I really wanted to get another lap in without having to use a head torch so this was my last chance to do that. I also wanted to capitalise on feeling pretty strong. Lap 4 was probably the most eventful of my laps. I set off and it was now definitely cooler (though still quite warm) and running felt a little easier. I still walked the sunny bits but there were now markedly fewer of them. I was going well and then we got into the Deep Dark Wood coming up to half way. There was a solo runner in front of me. I nearly went flying (hahaha) past and then realised that he was really struggling. I stopped and asked if he would like a bit of company, if that would help. It seemed to so I walked with him a little while – just short of a mile maybe, and we chatted about competing with ourselves, coming last and race bucket lists. I had a flicker of ‘oh well there goes a decent lap time then’ but it lasted less than a split second. Helping a fellow runner round was far more important. We chatted until we got to the drinks station and then he seemed to know a few people and was chatting away with them so I had my drink and headed on.
I was actually running strong and wondered whether I should try the next hill but it was still in full sun so I walked up smelling the camomile and watching a ewe on the wrong side of the fence getting more and more anxious because one of her lambs was on the other side. Marshalls were trying to herd her in the right directions round the fence but runners were coming through in a steady stream so she wasn’t for going that way. Eventually the inevitable happened and she launched herself through the fence, got stuck and sort of fell through it and stayed down lying on her side. I’d got to the top of the slope by now and the two ladies I’d been chatting to carried on as I went to see if I could help. The marshals didn’t know what to do and everyone seemed to think the ewe was badly hurt. I wasn’t so sure – I thought she was just being a sheep and giving up on life rather easily. I stroked her through the fence and checked her legs, no obvious pain, nothing felt broken. I couldn’t see any injuries. I think she was just stuck – or rather I think she thought she was stuck and was doing the usual sheep thing of ‘oh ok, well I’ll just die here then’. I walked round the fence line and over to her on her side of the fence.
20 Mile Face
She just looked at me. I stroked her while untangling her legs from the fence and then, helped by a gentle slope at the edge of the field, we rolled her over. As soon as she realised she could get up she jumped up and legged it over to her lambs (who had helpfully run off to be with the flock ‘bye mum, nice to have known you’ style). The marshals thanked me for stopping and apologised for ‘ruining’ my race. That made me laugh – it can’t have looked like I was racing anyone or anything! I reassured them they hadn’t and got going again. Towards the end of this lap my legs were feeling a little tired but otherwise I felt good. I was looking forward to a recovery drink and a little rest. I came home in 1.22 and a bit in spite of the lovely walk and chat and the sheep rescue.
Laps 5 and 6
When Kath came back after lap 5 I had dozed off so I was a bit dazed and confused. I set off on lap 5 really looking forward to a good run. I felt good. I certainly didn’t feel like I’d already covered 20 miles. I power walked the grassy slope to get used to the head torch
First slope seen from the bottom
and wake up properly and then I jogged down the first hill. I felt sick. Not running related sick, not tummy bug sick, nothing like that. I felt motion sick. I know that feeling well. I can get motion sick standing still. I nearly puked after doing the Star Wars simulator at Disney World with Kath even though I kept my eyes shut for all of it. But running? I realised that I got a wave of that deep nausea that can’t be shifted every time a runner approached from behind me and the light from their torch merged with mine. It was worse when they had a torch that flashed or moved a lot. It was completely disorientating me and I was unsteady on my feet. I walked. The nausea didn’t shift but at least I could walk in a straight line – sort of. I turned my torch off and for a couple of glorious minutes it was just me in the dark and the sick-y feeling eased, then more runners came past. Whenever I could I turned my torch off but there was a steady stream of other runners so it didn’t help that much. I tried to run but I kept nearly falling over and it made the nausea worse. I sipped my tailwind and kept walking. I was grumpy. I felt strong, nothing hurt, nothing was even achey and my legs, which had felt tired at the end of lap 4, felt fine. I tried to run again, stumbled and nearly fell into the path of another runner. ‘This is stupid’ I thought. I’m obviously not safe to run with the head torch light. I have run in the dark but when we do we tend to run in the dark. We take the head torches and will sometimes use them on tricky patches but generally we run without them as it is rarely so dark you can’t see.
So I kept marching round. I was upset and disappointed. This was going to be my flying lap. I wanted to try and get round in about the same time as my first lap. It should have been doable. I was in full blown battle mode in my head by the time I got to the drinks station. The guys there were singing Robbie Williams ‘Millennium’ and having a laugh and it was so cheerful and supportive that while I was there I forgot I was grumpy. I marched on a little more positively and as I crossed Festival Crossing the moon was in full view. It was stunning. I realised that I was missing all the wonders of being out at night. I tried to focus on them. I could hear the sheep nearby but couldn’t see them, I could hear owls screeching and the undergrowth at the path edges was full of hustle and bustle. I could feel the mist every time we descended into a dip but I couldn’t see it and the air had a stillness to it that you only get in the middle of the night. I walked a bit faster. I breathed more deeply, I was keeping the motion sickness under control. It was still there but more like the lingering car sickness that stays with you a couple of hours after a long journey. I marched up That Bloody Last Bit. Decision time. I wanted to stop. I was tired and felt a bit of an emotional wreck after that lap. I wanted to stop. But I also knew that if I stopped now that would be it. I wouldn’t go out again. I came for 6 laps. I wanted to stop. I knew I couldn’t run with the torch light. I knew I could wait for it to come light and then go but I also knew that I’d be unlikely to do that. If I stopped for any length of time I’d stiffen and if I fell asleep I’d struggle to wake up properly and if I slept too long it would be hot. I was also mindful of our long haul flight on Tuesday. I needed
The start/finish section
to not be broken to get sorted for our trip and be ok on the flight and on arrival. I wanted to stop.
So as I came into the finishing straight I kept to the right hand side, as far away as possible from the exits to the change over areas. I wanted to stop and I knew if I was on the left where it was easy to just duck out I might not keep going. I knew I could walk another lap. I knew I had to make myself do it or I would be so disappointed. I still wanted to stop though. I wasn’t sure I’d make myself do it until I had walked all the way down along the grassy slope along the far right away from the tents and opportunities to duck out. I basically kept my hand on the guide rope as if begging it to hold onto me and not let me quit. I turned right down the slope ‘ Right then Dopey, you’re doing this’ I said to myself. One foot in front of the other. I kept moving. I was more focused on my surroundings now, looking around and listening. There’s a certain quality of quiet in the night. Granted, it was punctured by the huffing and puffing of runners storming past me, but it was there. I got my ears in and heared different noises – different owls I think screeching and I caught the noise and movement of one swooping but it was too far in the wood to actually see it. Once or twice I more felt than saw a bat close by and once or twice my head torch caught eyes in the wood and reflected them back at me. It was stunningly beautiful. A few times I just stood and listened. I’d forgotten about time.
The lap
At a mile and half I saw a solo runner, Martin according to his sign on the back of his pack, walking slowly down the hill to Temptation Corner in front of me. It was tempting to fall into step with him, he was walking more slowly than I was at that point and I was aware of tiredness creeping into my legs and hips. But I kept walking offering words of encouragement as I went past. He overtook me later and looked strong. At the 3km mark there were marshals who were basically dancing the night away and they made me smile and I did a little series of salsa steps as I went passed – or I think I did. Who knows what I actually did. The next stretch was probably my favourite bit of all of it. In spite of now being quite tired and a bit emotionally drained because this was not the plan I love my slow walk through the Deep Dark Wood on this lap. I got lucky and saw almost no-one on this stretch. I turned my torch off and it was lovely and dark. My eyes adjusted quickly, the motion sickness faded further into the background and it was just calm. I realised I was happy and I realised I was going to complete the lap and get to 30 miles and I realised that that was what I wanted and that after the lap I would call it a night without any regrets or what ifs.
As I got to the drinks station I realised my hips were tight, very tight. The guys there were now playing Abba. I laughed. I wondered how many Abba songs I could sing in my head. Quite a few as it turns out and I hope for everyone’s sake that the singing happened in my head only. Can’t be sure though.
It must have been about 2.45 am and there was some light in the sky now. I could see the
First uphill slope from one of Kath’s laps
mist patches as I walked into them now and the sheep were more visible. In fact the scene at Festival Crossing was spectacular -the moon shining its light onto a large peaceful flock of sheep below. I thought about the ewe I’d helped rescue earlier and hoped she was ok. As I walked up Ripple Rise I caught up with Gareth who had a broken ankle and was hobbling round in his boot and on his 3rd lap. Seriously impressive stuff. On the flat he was walking faster than I had been and as I fell in with him and was forced to stride out a little more to keep up I stretched my hips and the pain eased. We chatted to the finish. It felt good to finish. It had an almost melancholy sense of achievement. 30 miles is a big deal. It just wasn’t quite the way I wanted to get to 30 miles. I wanted more running. But on reflection I’m really happy. The 10 mile walk in the middle of the night did me good, it did my brain good. It took forever – nearly 3 and a quarter hours in the end but it wasn’t about time. In many ways time just stood still as I toddled off into my own world, a world were calm and quiet were there in a way that they so rarely are for me these days. It might not have been what I wanted but it was perhaps what I needed. Sometimes the universe knows.
It has been a funny old week. Well actually it hasn’t, or at least I haven’t been able to find anything funny about it. It’s probably been hilarious. The foggy tiredness started to descend on Sunday evening; a vague darkness settling, clinging, making itself at home. The black pup had, somehow unnoticed, crept into the room. She was asleep in the corner and I was cross I hadn’t seen her coming in. I went to bed. Maybe she wasn’t really there, maybe I was just tired (‘nah, I’m here, you know that kinda tired, it’s me).
I knew I was physically fine. Logically I knew that. I also knew that I was running well within myself, I knew the route was gorgeous, I knew…. but I couldn’t make myself believe it. By just under 4 miles I felt dead on my feet. It all felt totally pointless. The pup was bouncing round in circles – ‘you can’t do it, you can’t do it’. I decided to pull out of the Great North Run. I decided to bin long distance running. We stopped for a minute or two and I took a few deep breaths and kicked the pup. She growled but took off and I got my act together for a bit and kept going. By just over 4 miles she’d caught up and she was on form: ‘Can’t do it, can you? Soooo slow, you won’t make the cut off time. Wow, it’s a wonder that butt can move at all – have you seen the size of it?’ She was relentless. I was tired and I gave up. I was pretty sure that was it, no more running because it just makes me miserable. I wondered if I could sell my Dopey registration. We sat by the river for a few minutes.
when that just didn’t happen (and it was never going to) I had no plan B and because of the depression absolutely no mental energy to stop the negativity and self doubt. I need a Plan B and C and possibly D. What I should have been working with was that Plan A was to cover the distance at a strong pace using the intervals, maybe Plan B could have been to cover the distance using the intervals as set – whatever the pace; Plan C to cover the distance adding extra walks where needed…. If I hadn’t built up the run quite so much in my mind and had articulated (at least to myself) the possibility of other plans or other ways of running it, I may have had a chance. Maybe not, it may simply be that the puppy was too much for me on that day. In the end I still covered 8.8 miles and in the end it was within Disney Pace (16 minute mile is the pace requirement for the Disney races – it was 15 something or other). That should be a win. It felt like total failure.
excuse not to go. But we went. I was again creaky and not at all bendy or strong but it was good to have to leave the house and to spend some time focusing on nothing but trying to get into and hold the poses. Black pups aren’t allowed into the gym.
I set off on the first running interval – all good. Then another, all good. Then I walked up a long sloping hill. Then I ran down the other side. And that’s how I continued – walking up, shuffling down, running on the flat, stopping for pictures. I didn’t stop after the mile loop, I kept going. I was doing our usual loop now but the wrong way round – I didn’t want any markers that might give me an indication that I was slower than usual. I didn’t want those visual clues to derail the positive of being out. I kept going. I went for the middle loop so crossed the Wharfe at the 
want to go silly so my plan was the same as for the lap before. I thought there would be a few more shady areas now so I might run a little more. The first part of the lap was non eventful and I just happily plodded along. Then someone recognised my Dopey t-shirt for a Dopey Challenge T-shirt and we had a quick exchange about how awesome it was as she flew past me. There were lots of comments about Dopey on this lap – most people not knowing it was a Dopey Challenge T-shirt. Many identified with the sentiment and I got lots of ‘Go on Dopey’ and ‘Well Done Dopey’ calls as I plodded round. Going up Temple Drag I saw a stunning Dragon fly. It was enormous – bigger than I’ve ever seen and shimmering as the light caught it. It made me smile and for a minute or two I forgot I was hot. I saw another one at Sheep Rush. I stopped for a drink and a chat with the marshals and then plodded on past the 5km mark to the next set of marshals at the bottom of the next hill. They were offering water sprays – who knew a simple spray of water in your face and on the back of your neck could be sooooo amazing. Thank you! Plodding up the hill I suddenly smelled camomile. It took me a minute to realise that I was running on the edge of the field and that the grass was edged with the low growing creeping sort of camomile – I must have been disturbing it and making it smell. It was lovely though. The rest of the lap was just hot although as I came to the end I vaguely wondered if maybe it was cooling off a bit. I was also suddenly aware of discomfort on my knicker line and inner thigh. Hm
really (not) a runner 