Brontë Running

What a lovely day it’s been. Our training plan suggests 10 miles today. We planned to repeat the Haworth run Kath did on Wednesday. We woke up early, made porridge and took it back to bed. After getting up and pottering about for a little bit we set off to walk to the station. We had a bit of a discussion about what miles to count for this adventure and decided that it’s about time on our feet and a decent striding out sort of walk would count. After a mile and a half we arrived at Keighley Station and proudly presented our local resident’s passes at the Worth Valley Railway ticket booth. If you’re local, buy yourself one of these, they’re a fiver and give you 50% off tickets.

On the way up to Haworth the train was a diesel locomotive and the carriages were more commuter train than sociable and fun seats with a table. We got a seat right at the front though and it was lovely just making our way out of Keighley, to Ingrow West (what happened to Ingrow East? Does it exist? Did it ever?), to Oakworth via Damems. Just after  Damems we stopped for a little while – not quite sure why. Possibly because there were a couple of blokes working on the tracks. We arrived in Haworth, waved the train off and nipped to the Ladies’ Room. I’m never quite sure whether I’m allowed in a Ladies’ Room.

We walked through Haworth Park and up Haworth Main Street (which those of you not local may have seen as it was part of the Tour de France in 2014) and turned left towards the Brontë Parsonage and then started run/walking as we got on a track and through a field just beyond it. My hay fever is not yet under control and my chest felt quite tight and I was struggling to breathe properly. It required focus. That didn’t really change all the way round so I think I probably appeared a bit grumpy at times. I wasn’t it was stunningly beautiful and glorious and I loved it. I just found it even harder than normal!

So after the field there is a short stretch of road which is a steady pull up a slope and we ran/walked that, crossed the road at the end of that section and then made our way along IMG_8940a track hugging a dry stone wall separating a field from Haworth Moor. It’s a well signed route to Brontë Waterfalls and beyond to Top Withens. It’s what you might call undulating. Honestly, I don’t think the hills on the initial stretch are too bad really – certainly not if I could actually breathe. I’m looking forward to having another go. The terrain isn’t too technical really but there were a few bits where I needed to concentrate and it was good to practice and just keep moving. I’m happy with how that went.

We reached the Waterfall – it was a little trickle really. We didn’t take a picture but Kath 31084267_961162334063915_7898002905209241600_ndid on Wednesday  (so here is hers!) and instead we got some on the little stone bridge which led us on our way to Top Withens. As we made our way up here I started to feel a little flakey. I had a bit of tailwind but I think maybe not IMG_8934enough. As we were close to Top Withens I felt a little faint, had some more tailwind and started feeling better. We walked a bit further and then picked a spot to sit for a few minutes and drink in the beauty of the moor. I was trying to spot the grouse – they were there, I could hear them grumbling but I couldn’t see any around us.

After a few minutes we walked up to Top Withens and spent another minute or two in the ruins and looking around. Somehow I don’t imagine Emily and her sisters walking the moors in weather like this. It’s never warm, sunny and dry when I think of them – it’s always wuthering. Always. The Killjoy society (as Kath called them) have added a plaque to Top Withens to inform us all that it is not Wuthering Heights:

We then started to make our way back down. I felt much better, a little rest and more

IMG_8957tailwind had obviously worked wonders. We jogged down the hill – good practice and pushing out of my comfort zone a bit on the steeper bits. On Wednesday Kath did an out an back run but we decided to do a loop instead and head back via Stanbury. The track from Top Withens towards Stanbury is a very runable track with no real technical sections. There are some stones and some loose gravel but it was easy to pick a route, even for me. I tried to run the downhill and run/walk the flat. We must have been around 5 miles in by now. Once we were off the track we ran/walked the road until we got into the village – the road through is narrow and there isn’t really a pavement so we walked. Once the road widened we started run/walking again.

IMG_8956I briefly wondered whether we should do a tiny detour to go visit my grandma’s grave at Stanbury cemetery but I didn’t want to. It felt like it was pointless; she lived and breathed  this landscape, being out in it and enjoying it as we were seemed somehow more appropriate than giving a nod to the grave stone. So we turned right and ran along the reservoir. We chose a more gradual climb back up by turning left along a track and then we were back on the edge of Haworth and retraced our steps through the field, down the track to the Parsonage. 7.61 miles of gorgeous Brontë country.

We stopped in the Haworth Steam Brewery for food and couldn’t resist a cheeky half – I think actually it was the name of the beer that persuaded Kath that she really had to try some – it’s ‘a good pint’ apparently.

Refreshed we made our way down Main Street and had a look in a few shops. I was surprised. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Haworth and the shops are so much better

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Sociable Shadows

than I remembered! There’s Mrs Beighton’s Sweet Shop which is just scrumptious. We saw some lovely things and witty cards in Wave of Nostalgia, some gorgeous artwork and more witty things in Hawksbys Gallery. And then we went to see our friend Sián at her shop Sian Alison Designs where she sells amazing jewellery made with local flowers. I absolutely love her forget-me-not designs but have a look at her Facebook page or if you’re local pop in – the pink heather stuff is lush too.

IMG_9006We walked back through Haworth Park. There seemed to be an abundance of small pug like dogs about today and we had just commented on how the noise of their laboured breathing would get on our nerves when a lad of about 8ish walked past one and exclaimed in a broad Yorkshire accent: ‘They make like they’re dying’. We burst out laughing and were still giggling on the platform as we waited for the train back to Keighley. The return journey was on a steam train with a buffet car so we had another sneaky beer as we watched the familiar landscape choochoo past. In Keighley we watched the steam loco change ends and then popped into the supermarket to get milk, some salad and also a  banana for Kath to eat on the way back. Another 1.5 mile walk and we were home.

A little over 10 and a half miles done today. Year to date – 210.27. And my April mileage is sitting on a very very satisfactory 65 miles, highest monthly mileage so far this year and there’s still a while left! Happy Running!

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Funny Running Week

Sometimes running weeks are funny aren’t they. On Monday, when I really did need a rest day and me and my body were tired from the weekend I really wanted to run. On Tuesday I had a lovely day out and about but didn’t really have time to run once I got back home. I thought 2 rest days would probably not be a bad thing anyway. Well once I got home yesterday, having looked forward to running all day while in the office, I just could not be bothered. I felt so tired and lazy. Kath suggested going twice today instead. I agreed. I only agreed because I didn’t want to run last night.

This morning I was vaguely aware of being gently nudged and coaxed out of sleep, into

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Sneezy

running gear and out of the house. I think I woke up about 2 miles in. My eyes were stinging, I couldn’t really breathe and everything felt puffy. Hello hay fever. I’ve missed you – not. Anyway, let me think – which way did we go? It really is all vague. We headed on our sheep loop but then turned off to go through the wood. I sort of remember this – I was waking up. This is the trail/wood where I first started my proper trail running education. I was quite pleased with how I got through today – never stopped moving and I must have been more relaxed (asleep?) because my feet weren’t sore.

After the wood we turned right along the old golf course road and then we headed back along the canal towpath and home. The hay fever was a pain and I have now started taking tablets which should sort it.

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New Shoes!

This afternoon we went for run number 2 of the day and I finally tried

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First Ducklings of the year

my new trainers. It’s hot. I’m not quite sure how hot but it was a factor almost immediately. Nonetheless we had a lovely steady 3 mile run until we saw some ducklings, the first ducklings of the year, along the canal and stopped to watch them for a bit. After that we walked the rest of our loop chatting and watching ducks, lambs, little birds and stopping at the Co-op for pizza and beer. Well it is Thursday – practically the weekend.

I just updated my running chart. So this isn’t getting to me at all! Nope, not at all.

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The Day After the Day Before

According to the training plan we worked out for the next few months, we were to cover 15 miles across the two days this weekend. I did point out that a 10k run in the Lake District isn’t like a 10k run along the canal towpath and that I might struggle both mentally and physically to get my arse out of bed after the Hawkshead event. I don’t think Kath was that impressed by my excuse at the time so the 15 mile weekend stayed on the training plan.

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Shack looking more interested in us than he usually is!

After yesterday I went to bed really early and slept really well for about 2 hours. Then I woke up and pretty much repeated that pattern throughout the night. I woke up properly about 7am. Kath wasn’t there so when my eyes had adjusted enough so I could read I looked at her note – she’d gone for a run about 6.30am. I curled up with our Shack for a bit feeling lazy and also trying to assess the level of aches and pains. No pain. I went for a pee. The damage from Hawkshead seemed to be as follows

  1. Slightly aching ankles
  2. One little blister on my left foot
  3. Making themselves known glutes
  4. Possibly grumpy hips

So nothing to worry about really. This is all normal after running that takes me out of my comfort zone in terms of speed, distance or terrain. I expected worse. This was good because none of it was pain. It was more that smug ‘I’ve done some exercise’ sort of feeling. The cat wanted attention so I got back into bed and wondered if I really needed to go out and run today. But I wanted to. I wanted to go stretch my legs.

I was just about to head off when Kath came back from her run. So I set off on the Guth leg of the Self/Guth relay run of the day. I wasn’t really sure where I was going to go. After yesterday I didn’t want anything technical or slippery, just didn’t have the headspace for that. I started off looping through the estate further down the hill and then turned onto the canal towpath towards Bingley. At the next bridge I came off and walked back up the hill and turned right towards Morton. Then I turned right and headed back down and looped back along the canal. I was now close to 4 miles and beginning to feel it. I was tired.

There was also something going on in my head – I really didn’t want to run the same section of the canal twice so I came off at the next bridge again and dropped down onto the road. It’s Sunday so there was very little traffic . I probably wouldn’t have done it otherwise because I hate running with traffic noise. I passed the cemetery and was tempted to run a couple of loops in there but somehow it seemed disrespectful on a Sunday morning so I kept going on. I got back onto the canal towpath for a bit, went uphill on the road a bit and ran out of steam. I was at about 5.5 miles and it was so tempting to turn right and go home rather than left to complete my miles. I decided to walk a little because even though tired, nothing hurt and I wanted to get the miles in. I asked the #Run1000miles group to send energy on FB and they duly obliged. Awesome people. I was about to head down the road that runs parallel to the canal when I bumped into one of the dog walkers I know from our sheep days. I stopped and chatted to her for a bit and it was a welcome break.

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Random Route!

After the chat I took a deep breath and headed on for my last couple of miles. It was tough going. I stuck to the run/walk intervals as much as I could but the gentle slopes were starting to feel like the Coffin Trail all over again and I ended up walking more than I usually have to on that route. I was relieved to turn onto the flat canal towpath and managed to run/walk to schedule until I got to the next bridge where I stopped and started to walk home. I walked up the hill and just as I got to the top I bumped into Kath’s mum who was walking to our house so I abandoned the very vague thoughts I’d had about running home lamp post to lamp post and walked back with her.

8.30 miles taking me to a total of 191 miles so far for 2018. Happy!

Remember the Whys

So by now you know I have a love hate relationship with running. It’s a relationship though and one I can’t really imagine being without now. I love running, I love not running, I love writing about running, I love writing about not running, I love how running makes me feel, I love what running allows me to do, what it teaches me… I hate running, I hate not running, I hate how running makes me feel, I hate how running can be all consuming and leave no time for anything else and I hate hate hate how crap I am at running and how some of the things it teaches me I’m just not ready to hear. Running keeps me sane and drives me crazy at the same time. It’s the best thing I do and utterly vile all at once.

I wrote before – quite a while ago – that I don’t really remember the beginning. It’s true, I don’t. But I’ve been thinking about the journey lots recently. I know there was a time I literally couldn’t run to the postbox at the end of the road – that must be about 20 metres or so. I couldn’t do it and sometimes it’s hard to remember that now I can. In running terms I had a fabulous January. I was relatively consistent (the longest gap in running was 4 days) and clocked up just over 60 miles. February was disappointing – snow, general crapiness – I managed 42 miles but had big gaps (10days). March felt more consistent but in the end I actually only made it to 40.99 miles and some of the days I didn’t run I had no excuse at all. I just couldn’t be bothered. The last March week was busy with a conference and driving down to Keele Uni I was quite excited that I only had 1.96 miles left to reach 150 miles for the year – except that I must have misread my chart because when I got home and added the miles to my spreadsheet I was still a way off. That upset me. No really it did. I was excited to have hit the milestone and then so bitterly disappointed to find that actually I hadn’t. Just as well I’d been too busy to post it on social media! (Just for the record, I have now gone through 150 miles for the year – I’ve triple checked this time!)

So for the rest of March I just didn’t bother. Yes I was tired from the conference but a run would have done me good. I just didn’t want to go. I had no motivation, no drive, no interest at all. I couldn’t even be bothered to flick through the running magazines I haven’t looked at yet. It crossed my mind a couple of times to maybe check my race number for the Lakeland Trails Hawkshead 10k or to sort out logistics for the Toronto Half marathon but I just couldn’t be arsed with any of it. Thinking about running was not a happy place. It felt like all of it, thinking about it, writing about it, organising it, all of it was a chore. I hate running.

On Saturday we were going to go to Bolton Abbey and run there. Honestly, I only got out of bed because of the promise of a bacon sarnie at the end. It was raining and it looked cold. I got dressed and we drove across. We got out of the car at the car park and were hit by an icy wind driving the rain straight into us needling our faces and making it hard to breathe. We got back in the car and came home. We spent the rest of the day curled up trying to keep warm. Sunday morning Kath went out for a run. By lunchtime there was something niggling me. I wanted to run. I actually wanted to run. Kath said she’d come with me so we headed out on our sheep loop using run/walk intervals of 2 minutes/30 seconds. It was good to be out. I smiled as I went past landmarks that for some reason I was remembering as running milestones. The post box at the end of the road was first. I remembered my first run/walk/run sessions where I was actually quite tired by the time I made it to the Pub just down the road – and it’s all downhill. I remembered the right turn to head uphill – I used to dread that turn. It took me months to not have to put in an extra walk. I smiled as we went past our old sheep fields thanking our lucky stars that we’re not lambing in this awful weather. I made it up the slope. Remember when that was impossible?

Inevitably on the downhill I tensed. We’d watched Cars 3 on Saturday and I suddenly started to giggle as I remembered the ‘trainer’ telling one of the racers who was tensing on a treadmill to think ‘fluffy cloud’. I spent the rest of the downhill repeating ‘fluffy cloud’ in my head giggling at the image of the car relaxing. When I got to the bottom of the hill I thought ‘I belong here, this is my track’. I’d noted two lines from Cars 3 as possible mantras but hadn’t realised how much they’d already lodged themselves in my brain. One was ‘You are a racer’ and the other was ‘You belong on this track’ The rest of the loop  felt good. I felt strong and the running felt ok.

 

Today we headed out again  – I struggled to wake up and it was snowing so enthusiasm was about 0. But I did want to go. Somewhere in the back of my mind the ‘can’t be bothered’ had shifted to something else. I was ‘chasing’ Kath again. By just over a mile I’d had enough. I dragged myself to 2 miles and shortly after that I was ready to curl up and cry. I thought about coming off the canal towpath and phoning Kath to tell her I was off home but instead I paused my watch, changed the running interval from 2 minutes to 1 minute told myself I belonged here splashing through the puddles and carried on. I’m remembering the why. Or rather I am remembering the whys. There’s the why of the first time I pulled trainers on and tried to run all those years ago during A-Levels – it was all about being thinner than I was. It’s almost funny how at my overall fittest with several high energy gym classes a week and a solid and consistent gym routine I failed and failed and failed at the running thing. I never made it over half way in a couch to 5k programme. It was the wrong why. Then they why of Rachel’s death and the half marathon that followed. Maybe the right why but too much to soon or maybe just not enough whys – to the whys that led to Dopey and London and the whys that keep me coming back to running now. So what are they. Well there’s the mental health stuff. I might be proper loony without running and I’d certainly get far less of the brain work done; there’s the physical health stuff – obviously I am healthier than if I didn’t run; there’s the weight thing – except I suspect I could lose more and faster if I didn’t run; there’s the being out and seeing the seasons change (or refuse to at the moment) and all of that; but as I dragged my moomin butt up Unity Street and wondered whether I’d ever be able to run even some of this stupidly steep hill, I nearly burst out laughing. I run because it’s all so bloody ridiculous. I run because it’s impossible. I run because it’s hard, it’s the hardest thing I do again and again and again. I can’t do it at all and yet I do it – several times a week. I run because I can’t and that means that anything I think I can’t do (like change the world), I just need to go out there and do it. Yoda was right – Do or don’t, there is no try – by doing you can, even if you can’t. That’s my why.

4 mile week to 8 mile Monday

I started a grumpy blog post yesterday but because I was grumpy and unfocused I never actually finished it. It has things in it I want to talk about but not right now. I’m not grumpy today. I finished last week on a grand total of 1 run and 4 miles. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to run as such, I just never made it my priority and then missed my chance. Monday was a genuine rest day and that was fine, Tuesday I thought I’d go at the gym and run as that was the only chance I’d get and I was at the office early and instead of going then I thought I’d use the quiet time to get some work done. Well after the quiet came the crazy and I never got another minute to pee never mind go to the gym.  Wednesday, can’t remember. Wednesday was icy. Thursday we went to London (for work IMG_8375.JPGfor me) so didn’t get chance to run then. Friday though was a day off and we had planned a long tourist run through Hyde Park, St James’ Park and down to the river…. Yeah, well that kind of distance requires getting our arses out of bed and that just didn’t happen. We both felt lazy and content having a cuppa in bed and slowly waking up and then having a slow breakfast… We didn’t run in the morning as planned. We went to see the Winnie The Pooh exhibition at the V&A instead (it is just gorgeous).

However, the weather was stunning, Hyde Park was just there across the road from our hotel really, it was crying out for a run. So at lunchtime we got ourselves out there and plodded our way to 4 miles. Neither of us really feeling great but sort of enjoying running somewhere we didn’t know, stopping to take pictures and hurdling tourists, geese, ducks and pigeons. I also nearly trod on a squirrel who misjudged my pace, or its pace or both. We saw loads of runners, loads, and not one of them said hello or smiled or nodded in acknowledgement. What is that all about. People seemed actually quite freaked out when we said hi. In fact, I think we got most of a response from a couple of herons who at least gave us an acknowledging sort of look.

Saturday was more work and then home and Sunday I really just felt like I had been hit by a truck. I vaguely toyed with idea of a run. Kath went but when Kath went it still looked icy – you know me and icy. When she got back and I thought I might go, I was hungry and by the time we’d eaten and my food had settled enough it was snowing and the road was slushy. Slushy is as bad as icy.

So Monday. I had a research meeting this afternoon. The nice sort, not the admin idiotic sort. I also needed to deal with my once again almost full mailbox and prepare for a pretty important thing I have in London tomorrow. I was trying to figure out how to get a run into what was promising to be a slightly mad Monday in terms of work. Then it occurred to me that I have to travel to the meeting and that actually it wouldn’t take *that* much longer to run the 6 ish miles there than it would to walk down the hill and get a bus or drive and spend ages finding somewhere to park (which is what happened last time).

So once I dealt with the most urgent crazy in my inbox I transferred what I needed from work laptop to MacBook (so much lighter!), packed the MacBook, lightweight fleece, hairbrush (why???), money and phone into my little backpack and set off. I didn’t pack deodorant – I had it in my hand at one point when I was getting sorted so goodness knows where I put that down. Anyway, the route is, as it turns out, exactly 6 miles and after the initial downhill is flat along the canal towpath. I started running continuously. Silly really! I should have started run/walk. I felt good for mile 1. After mile 1 not so much. It felt like I was running out of fuel (but I’d had porridge) and my legs were heavy and lungs not really playing. I kept going a bit but annoyingly kept stopping to walk. So just after 2 miles I gave in and set my watch to run/walk alerts and kept plodding along at 1 minute runs and 30 seconds walk.

This was not a fun run. It was bloody hard. Every time there was an opportunity to come off the canal and get a bus instead I had to force myself to keep going. At half way I was knackered – in spite of having taken over 40 minutes to get just over 3 miles. I walked down the 5 Rise Locks (because I’m a wimp and because I love my knees) and kept plodding along. 4 mile beep, 5 mile beep. I went through 5 miles in an hour and 8 minutes – slow but I’m not arguing, I was amazed I hadn’t had a tantrum and gone for a bus or gone home. The last mile seemed to pass quite quickly (it didn’t actually) and before I knew it I was there. ‘I enjoyed that’ I thought. WTF? I did not enjoy a single step of that but my brain seemed dead set on telling me that I had. Who am I to argue with my brain. I took a selfie with an Octopus and headed to our meeting place.IMG_8422

So we had a productive few hours and then I heard myself saying that I might set off back now because there was still enough light to get at least part of the way home along the canal towpath. What? When exactly had I decided I was going to run back, at least part way? That was news to me as I said it but there we are. My brain had decided that’s what I was doing. Well if I had known I may not have had the last coffee and I might have eaten fewer chips with my baguette. Anyway, I set off on run/walk and was actually having a nice time until I started needing the loo, badly. I made it to just over 2 miles before running became so uncomfortable that I decided to call it a day – no real toilet stop options on the route. I was also running out of light and unusually for me I was feeling cold. I walked the last half mile with a few little jogs thrown in, jumped on a bus and walked up the hill home. Total miles today 8.66.