Only Human

On February 6, 2016 By Girl Running CrazyIn General3 Comments

This week my body gave up on me. Easy jogs home from work not to anger my hamstring, emergency doctors appointments, and 2 days working from my bed was not what I had planned for this week. My immune system appears to be punishing me.

I’ve been feeling exhausted over the last couple of weeks. It’s probably not surprising considering I’ve been consistently running more miles than I ever have done, as well as regular spinning classes and yoga. Throw in a busy job in advertising that doesn’t let me sit still for 5 minutes and seeing friends and I’ve been wiped out.

I’m pretty good at looking after myself, most of the time. I eat a lot of fresh healthy food, my colleagues have stopped being surprised at the colour of my morning smoothies, I drink ridiculous amounts of water and I go to bed early when I’m tired. But I’m also busy, and being busy can be exhausting.

Saturday morning vitamin fest:

Over the last couple of weekends I’ve been really pleased with my long runs. 17-18 mile solo efforts with some faster paced miles and a strong finish, it’s been a refreshing change from last years laboured efforts. However, my weekends have also been busy and I haven’t had the time to recover properly, like, erm eating actual food and resting. Turns out not eating after 17 miles and rushing round London drinking all the prosecco until 3am isn’t ideal, especially when you don’t eat before your long runs either. Lesson learned.

Last week I promised myself I would eat more carbs, remember to take my iron supplements (despite peoples insistence that all I need is a big fat slab of blood-dripping cow flesh, it’s never going to happen) and get more sleep. Despite keeping my promise I still couldn’t drag myself out of bed at 5.50am for my morning session and I still got poorly. Blah blah blah.

This morning I was desperate to go to Parkrun. Sadly, I didn’t make it. But I’m listening to my body because, in the wise words of my fabulous friend Kate, it knows better than me. I’m only human, it’s one of my biggest frustrations in life.

On the bright side, I did find the time to make these protein packed healthy Chickpea Blondies thanks to my friends at These Girls Do!

Marathon Training: Feeling Good

On January 22, 2016 By Girl Running CrazyIn General2 Comments

It’s been about 2 months since I fell out of love with running and I would rather have stuck a pencil in my eye than put my trainers on and jog round London. However, I’ve always been a bit fickle and since then, I seem to have remembered exactly why I love running so much and I even rather enjoyed my run commute despite the -5 degrees temperature this week!

I think it was a slightly hazy time somewhere between the 4^th and 5^th cocktail at the Chaser Christmas party when I fell in love with running again. It was at this time when the ballot was drawn for the Chasers club places in the London Marathon and my name was the first name out! Of course, I missed the actual event having been in the toilet/at the bar/chatting about life with complete strangers/some or all of the above, which I was pretty gutted about, but I was SO EXCITED to get a place!

Since then, I’ve been firmly back in training for the last 5 weeks and, in a surprising turn of events, it actually seems to be going well… I’m not entirely sure what’s happened to me, or if I’ve simply been spurred on by the pretty punchy target I’ve set myself, but I’ve been running better than I have for a long time and it feels great!

New Year’s Day double Parkrun crew. A very muddy Wimbledon followed by a chilly Fulham!

Generally, I’ve learned that really high mileage plans don’t work for me. I’ve tried it, I got tired, I got injured, I resented having to go for a run, and, importantly, I did not run well on marathon day. 5 runs a week is enough for me, it allow me to run 40+ miles, do all my key sessions, a recovery run, and I still have time for a spinning class or 2 and my favourite Tuesday morning yoga class. I’m definitely not planning any 70 mile weeks any time soon!

Running just seems to be a bit easier at the moment, I’ve been doing my track sessions at an even, or progressive, pace without vomiting on the 400m line and I’ll even admit to possibly, maybe, enjoying it this week which I don’t think has ever happened before!

Tempo sessions have also been going well (ie I finish them without feeling like I’m going to drop dead) and I’m so happy to be running with Ruth again. Ruth and I used to run together a lot when we were training for the Rome Marathon, then she got quicker and I got slower and she became a little dot on the horizon. Ruth is still speedier than me but I enjoy chasing her, and the other speedy girls Jenna and Kristy, round a cold dark Battersea Park. Throw in some long runs at a pace I’m happy with and I’m actually feeling quite positive.

All I have to do now is keep it up for the next 13 weeks without getting injured, errrrm, should be fine if I go to yoga every week right…??

I hope your Spring marathon training is going well too!

Post long run coffee last Sunday

2016: Goals

On December 31, 2015 By Girl Running CrazyIn General7 Comments

I don’t really believe in new years resolutions, if you want to change something just do it, you don’t need to wait until the 1st January. That said, I think it’s important to set goals and challenge yourself. Sharing goals is a bit scary, whilst it doesn’t necessarily matter if you don’t achieve them, I think it does matter if you don’t give them an honest effort. So, as we’re about to head into a new year, these are my 2016 goals…

1. Run 3.30 – 3.35 in the London Marathon

Yep, I said it, my Spring marathon goal is a PB, a GFA and a BQ, all the acronyms! My current PB is 3:47 so I’m looking to knock about 15 minutes off it which I don’t think will come easily. I know there are a lot of people who think I can’t do this one, but I’m going to give it everything I’ve got and I believe I can do it, you’ve got to at least believe in yourself right?

I want to go to Boston. It’s Boston or bust.

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2. Do more Parkruns

I don’t run nearly enough Parkruns and that needs to change. I both love and hate Parkrun, I love pushing myself, I love the atmosphere and I love getting that little text message but I can get a bit worked up about it beforehand. In 2016 I want to try 5 new Parkruns and run my first sub 22 5k…ermm, I may need a pacer…please?!

This one will be starting bright and early tomorrow with a New Years Day Parkrun double!

Pre-Christmas party Chasers outing to Brockwell

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3. A new 10k PB

This one might be one to focus on later in the year given I can’t even run 5k at my 10k PB pace at the moment! Still, it was 2011 when I somehow managed to run 45:24 round Poole Park and it’s about time I make a serious effort to duck under 45…given my shocking pacing skills, I may need a pacer for this one too…anyone?!

4. Up the strength & conditioning work

Just over a year ago I took up a weekly yoga class and I’ve really noticed the difference, it definitely helps long run recovery and I’m sure it’s helped on the injury front. I’m even getting better at it, I can very almost, nearly, sorta do a headstand and everything!

In recent weeks I’ve also been adding a weights session into my routine, I was quite shocked at how strong my legs were in some places and embarrassingly weak in others. 2016 will be the year of yoga, weights and core…as well as all the running of course. I may need to quit my job…

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5. Stop being so hard on myself

In all honesty, this might be the most difficult for me, especially as I don’t even realise I’m doing it until someone points it out (usually Clare, thanks Clare!) The problem is, I run in a club where I am one of the slowest runners and it makes it very easy feel inadequate even when I get a PB. I’m never going to be the best runner but that doesn’t make my achievements less worthy of other peoples, they’re just different.

The last time I remember feeling genuinely elated with a run was at the Frankfurt marathon, next year I’m going to make sure I celebrate the way I celebrated in Frankfurt, be happy when I make progress and stop comparing myself to other people.

So, these are my 2016 goals and every one of them scares me. Can I do it? Errm, in the spirit of the above I’m going to say a big fat yes!

Happy New Year x

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2015: Another Year Over

On December 21, 2015December 21, 2015 By Girl Running CrazyIn General6 Comments

It’s that time again when I throw myself into a panic about the year nearly being over and how I haven’t actually achieved anything. After a little think I realised that isn’t quite true and, upon reflection, 2015 has been a year that’s given me some great memories with some awesome people. These are my highlights.

1. I ran my first* ultra marathon SBU35

On the 29th August I ran 36.8 miles and became an ultra runner. It was a huge achievement for me, not least because it was a trail race that included a mountain in the middle (OK, technically it might not be a mountain but at almost 2,000 ft it’s described as ‘one of the steepest sections of track you’ll have ever seen…). It rained, it was windy and it challenged me in ways I’ve never been challenged before but, with an ever patient and reassuring Chris by my side, I finished in one piece, albeit a slightly emotional wreck.

Learnings: Sometimes, mental strength is everything. I don’t give up easily. Chris is a really good friend.

*and very probably last

2. I ran 4 other marathons in 2015

Brighton – the one where I barely ran the last mile, got overtaken by a dude dressed as a toilet, and was annoyed I missed sub 4 by 13 seconds but enjoyed it all the same.

Learnings: London isn’t the only marathon in the UK worth running. I have more bounce-back-ability than I thought.

London – the one that’s my absolute favourite, the crowds, the sights, the Chasers, it just leaves me high on life.

Learnings: Always run the London Marathon when you have the opportunity. Shots of sambuka a few hours after running a marathon is a punchy move.

Vanguard Way – the one where I ran my first trail marathon, got lost and it was hot, hot, hot. All ended well cause Jas and I had Coke, sweets and each other.

Learnings: When you’re running on the trails it really doesn’t matter what your Garmin says. It’s OK to walk up hills. Jas is awesome.

Medoc – the one where we started with a hangover, drank wine all the way round, had shots of whiskey at 20 miles, ate oysters, finished drunk and drank all the beer at the end (I don’t even like beer). Good times!

Learnings: Sometimes you should break all the rules. Drunk running is fun. I can’t beat rugby boys at drinking games.

Including SBU that makes a total of 5 marathons this year. That’s kinda a lot for me!

3. Thunder Run

In July a group of us headed to Derbyshire to run in a continual 10k loop for 24 solid hours. In my team of 6, we took turns to run around in circles through mud, trees and woods, all day and all night. That’s 26 laps in 24 hours… Why? I don’t bloody know why but we had a great time!

Learnings: F**k it, who needs sleep? Teamwork is everything. As much as it hurts to admit, I cannot put up my tent without a boy’s help.

4. 3 Peaks Challenge

Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon climbed and conquered in just over 24 hours. 3 mountains, 3 countries, 26 miles, 9,800 feet of ascent and 880 miles on the road, bloody awesome experience!

Learnings: I am really, really bad at climbing down mountains. Up? That appears to be no problem at all..

5. Green Belt Relay

The Green Belt Relay is a 220 mile, 2 day running event around London’s Green Belt. It involves early mornings, very little sleep, a brief stay in the hottest hotel in Essex, an obscene amount of time in a minibus on the M25, cider, banter and, of course, some running. Having done it for the 2nd time in May, it’s become one of my favourite weekends of the year!

Learnings: Running the glory leg is as rewarding as it is nerve-racking. Alex makes the best superhero ever. I cannot drive minibuses

6. I learned a little something

Recently I’ve learned it’s OK to take a little break from running, it’s OK to do something else and it’s even OK to even sit on the sofa all day. Who knew?! I’ve been running for about 15 years, a few weeks off doesn’t make me any less of a runner, in fact it’ll probably make me a better one.

Learning: When you need a break, take a break!

So that’s 2015! I guess it’s time to start thinking about my goals for next year…

CTS Dorset: The Wind Battle

On December 11, 2015August 7, 2017 By Girl Running CrazyIn Race Reports3 Comments

It probably won’t surprise you that the thought of a DNS next to my name horrifies me. It doesn’t really matter what the reason is, or how sensible it might be, I don’t cope well with the mental anguish of feeling like I failed before I’ve even started. When I woke up on Saturday I felt dizzy, sick and completely drained, but, worse than the thought of dragging my arse out of bed and into the gale force winds, was the thought of a DNS, I couldn’t be a DNS in the motherland.

Saturday was the Dorset CTS, one of the races in the Endurance Life Coastal Trail Series. There are 10 in total around the country, but Dorset is only one of 2 labelled ‘extreme’, meaning it’s utterly brutal on the heart, lungs, legs and, potentially, the soul. Dorset also happens to be my home county, and World Heritage site Lulworth, on the Jurassic Coast, is one of the most stunning locations in the UK.

Durdle Door on a sunny day!

Home to both Lulworth Cove, a remarkable landform that attracts swarms of tourists, and Durdle Door, a natural limestone arch that juts out in the sea, as well as rolling hills, coastal walks and cosy pubs, it’s a trail lovers dream. As you know, I’m undecided on my love of the trails, but I do love Lulworth, Chaser weekends away and cosy pubs!

There are 4 choices of distance, a 10k, 16 miles (they call this a half), full marathon, 33 miles and a whopping 45 miles for the clinically insane (Russ did this one last year…) I had entered the half but, having not run for 3 weeks due to a calf injury, I wasn’t sure how that would go…

I headed down with the usual suspects, Frankie, Albro, Russell and Lorraine, and the train journey was full of the usual banter, G&Ts and crisps. Russ thoughtfully broke out the Scorpion Chilli Death Chocolate because, well, what else would you eat before an extreme trail race?

On arrival in Wool, we dutifully headed to the pub to disturb the locals on a quiet Friday afternoon. Frankie was running the marathon the next day but was still successfully sinking an impressive amount of beer! However, after a pub dinner with the rest of the Chaser crew I started to feel really sick…

I’ll hold my hands up and say the alcohol probably didn’t help, but it usually takes a lot more than that to make me sick, and it certainly doesn’t make me shiver. I sadly took myself home to bed whilst the others stayed in the pub of many ciders.

The next morning I truly felt dreadful and had zero energy, I had barely slept all night and could only manage a cup of tea and half a slice of toast. I made a sensible decision to downgrade from the 16 miles to the 10k. It’s one thing to push yourself through a few miles but 16 is actually quite a long way, the winds were crazy and the course was tough, as much as it hurt, 10k was more than enough today.

Heading down to the start I realised just how windy it was, apparently the winds were up to 50+ mph when you got up to the exposed areas along the front. I had made the right choice. It was easy to downgrade at registration and, unsurprisingly, I wasn’t the only one and bumped into a fair few other Chasers doing the same!

I met Mum and Dad who had come along for spectating duties and we watched the start of the half, the Ultra and Marathon had already started so Cat and Frankie were long gone. I spotted Chris at about 12 miles in his 33 mile race looking, err, windswept, but strong!

The 10k got started after a race briefing at at 11.30 and the course took us straight up a stoney hill of steps, I started off jogging but quickly dropped to a walk, as did everyone else. It got windier and windier as we reached the top and I spotted Albro, Russell and Claire taking photos, not sure how they didn’t get blown away…

At the top the view opened up over the sea and Durdle Door and you could see the hills that were to come! The first 3 miles is made up of 4 hills but, although the descents are more than runable (even for me!) it was a real struggle against the winds and you had to throw a lot of force into carrying yourself forwards.

On one descent down towards the sea, the wind was so strong it was blowing all the gravel straight into my face, I couldn’t see but, hey, free facial?! The battle against the wind became comically funny as it literally blew you across the course, I was too scared to take any photos in case my phone blew away!

At the 3 mile point, the course turned around and headed back on a pretty much continual slow descent. Slightly more inland than the completely exposed front, and with the wind behind us, it became much easier to actually run, in fact, it became pretty much impossible to walk as the wind threw you forward. We ran through a caravan park and onto the final descent down to the finish line, it was quite steep in places which was a hairy experience in the wind!

I got a big cheer as I rounded to the finish line and was really pleased to have finished my first run in 3 weeks, albeit with a slightly sore calf and out of control hair!

The folks were glad I dragged them out on a blustery day!

I was a little sad I hadn’t been able to do the 16 miler, but I really don’t think I would have got through it and there’s always next year right?! We had the usual Chaser success with a win in the half and numerous top 10 finishes as well as Chris facing his previous Dorset CTS demons with an impressive 11th paces in the 33 mile ultra!

In the evening nearly 40 of us descended on a wonderful little pub in Wool for celebrations, unfortunately I was still feeling a little under the weather so I missed the after party but I heard it was a success!

Dorset CTS is a fantastic event, it really is worth it for the views alone, it’s a beautiful place. If you get the chance to go I would definitely recommend it, just don’t underestimate the challenge, it’s a tough course so choose your distance wisely!

The next day a few of us attempted a cultural day out with a trip to Lulworth Castle, which we did, but Frankie, Albro, Russ and I accidentally ended up spending the next 12 hours in the pub. In our defense, it was a really, really great pub…

A summary of important run-related learnings

It’s probably best to avoid alcohol the day before a 16 mile extreme trail race
It’s probably best to avoid Albro, Russ & Frankie the day before a 16 mile extreme trail race
It’s wise to eat 3 proper meals before an event
It is not wise to sub one of those meals for G&T and Scorpion Death Chilli Chocolate
Beautiful locations make even the toughest runs worth it
You should laugh hysterically in the face of 50 mph winds as you scramble up and down hills
It doesn’t count as falling over if the wind knocks you off your feet
You cannot walk with stormy winds in your back, you can only fly
Chaser support is rivaled by nothing

A summary of non run-related learnings (bonus life lessons if you will)

If you spend 12 hours in the same pub, you will name the barman Bubble Butt and he will let you choose the music
When Albro is choosing the music everything gets a little bit punk and a little bit weird
When the bar closes at 10.30 but you’re still there at 12.30 Bubble Butt will drive you home
In fact, he will insist on it…
And let you take another drink for the journey
And give you half a pint of milk for your morning cuppa because there are no shops open in Lulworth, ever
And let you keep the best pint glass in the world with a dinosaur etched on it
Bubble Butt is the best barman in Dorset

What do you do when you fall out of love with running?

On November 22, 2015 By Girl Running CrazyIn General10 Comments

I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know where, and I don’t know when, but sometime in the recent past I’ve fallen out of love with running. And I’m sad about that.

I’m sad because I absolutely love being a Chaser, I’m sad because all my friends are having a great time running round London, knocking out PBs and loving every second, and I’m jealous that I can’t join in because, no matter how hard I try, the thought of going running mostly just makes me want to hide.

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It’s like everyone else is at the most awesome party…and I’m not invited.

A few weekends ago I didn’t run at all. Not because I was really busy, not because I was injured, and not because a squirrel ate all my trainers (there’s a family of squirrels living in the loft so that’s actually quite plausible, I call them The Wilde’s), but because I just didn’t want to. But, rather than being OK with that, I felt ridiculously guilty and spent endless hours trying to justify it to myself. Probably not the sign of a healthy relationship…

Maybe I took on too many challenges in the last year. 6 marathons in a 12 month period is a little insane, I didn’t even realise that’s what I did until I counted them, but I enjoyed them all…except maybe Amsterdam which broke me pretty hard, and Brighton when I got overtaken by an actual toilet in the last mile and swore never, never, ever again…until I did do it again 2 weeks later, but, generally I enjoyed them.

After Amsterdam I was a physical and mental shadow of my usual running self, painfully slow and far from the form I was in at the end of 2013. It took a lot of mental strength to bounce back and I’m still only half way there. Did I learn anything from that? Apparently not.

The problem is I do love running and I find it really hard to say no when someone jabs me in the ribs and suggests a weekend running round a new City/up ridiculous mountains/through vineyards in fancy dress. They sell me sweet dreams of sweaty fun, post-race cider and 10 hour road trips and I’ve signed up before they’ve even finished their sentence. I never claimed to be normal…

Running is a bit like wine, I love wine and it’s always a good idea to have another ~~bottle~~ glass, but you never quite know when you’ve had enough and then everything gets a bit hazy and weird and you wake up feeling rubbish. Actually, running is exactly like wine, who knew?

My last marathon was 2 whole months ago, and that was Medoc so I’m not entirely sure it counts when you’re doing shots of whiskey at mile 20, so shouldn’t I be over it all by now? Does running have a cumulative impact? I don’t know. I’ve tried having a break, going to the gym, spinning, yoga, bootcamps, but I still can’t get excited about running. All I do know is that, right now, I don’t love one of the things I generally love the most in life, I feel a little bit lost and I don’t know how to fix it.

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When Chrissie met the Chasers

On November 9, 2015November 9, 2015 By Girl Running CrazyIn General5 Comments

Meeting your heroes. It’s always a risk. How can they ever live up to your expectations? You put them on a pedastool and marvel at their achievements, but, through no fault of their own, you may very well come away feeling just a little disappointed.

Chrissie Wellington is one of my heroes but, having met her before, I had no doubt she’d be as inspirational, funny and friendly as ever (she even came to cheer me on at the Rome Marathon….well, she was there…and she cheered!) I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Chrissie is phenomenal. Not only is she 4 x World Ironman Champion, but she’s won every single one of the 11 Ironmans she’s competed in.

It didn’t come easy. Having battled an eating disorder, teammates who were often jealous of her ability, more than a few dodgy hotels the night before competition, wetsuits that made her sink, and numerous falls off the bike (one which left her with 3rd degree burns just 2 weeks before Kona…which she went on to win), she showed the world what it was to be a true champion. I only wish more people knew about her journey.

Last week, we were lucky enough to have our very own session with Chrissie, I was soooo excited I bounded out of work on the dot, still on my conference call, because I really didn’t want to be late. Absolutely could not be late for Chrissie….

…err, so I wasn’t late

One of my favourite things about Chrissie is that she’s very down to earth. She started by saying she had just come from an event with Prince Philip and had to get changed in a McDonald’s toilet on the way to us! Apparently we’re much more fun than Prince Philip too 🙂

Growing up in Norfolk, Chrissie always wanted to be a tractor driver when she was little, she loved fancy dress and was always a sporty kid with a passion for swimming. She went on to tell us about her life at uni where she captained the swim team, but was actually much better at drinking for them than swimming for them (which, if true, she must be one hell of a drinker!)

When I was little I dressed up as a starfish and then I became a World Champion…

After uni Chrissie started to take running a bit more seriously and knocked out her first marathon in 3:08, she had a knack for it. With skills in both swimming and running, it was suggested that she try her hand at triathlon and, after a few sprint and Olympic distances, she became hooked on the activity that would see her become one of the most inspirational women in sport.

It’s important to add that, whilst Chrissie was so good at triathlon, she didn’t have the fancy equipment to go with it. Far from it, her first road bike had 2 previous owners and her wetsuit was was second hand and didn’t fit, she didn’t care, and I think it’s this attitude that made her into such a strong competitor.

During a secondment in Nepal, Chrissie discovered the joys of mountain biking. She quickly learned that running wasn’t an option, unless you wanted to get bitten by rabid dogs (which did happen), and swimming was totally off the cards unless you were prepared to be violently ill. So, she bought a bike called Prem (Nepali for boyfriend) and developed the kind of mental and physical strength you only get from consistently battling sand storms and snow at altitude.

‘Silver Bullet Solution’

After returning home, getting a coach, and making further improvements in triathlon, Chrissie made the brave decision to turn pro in 2007. No ‘what if’s’. It wasn’t long before she made the start line of her first Ironman (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run), smashed it, took the win, and qualified for the World Champs in Kona.

Following this, Chrissie Wellington became 4 x World Ironman Champion in Kona, as well as winning every other Ironman distance triathlon she entered, all the while remaining humble and fiercely dedicated to her training. There was a lot we could learn from her!

Chrissie’s Top Tips

People don’t become a champion, they act like one
You have to find your passion, what makes you happy?
Take a chance, don’t be afraid of change because if you never try, you’ll never know
Juggling balls is all part of the challenge but sport should be a good stress – your training needs to work with your life and other commitments

The Training Plan

Have a sensible, realistic training plan, it should be a journey
Consistency is key, but be flexible
Base your plan around 4 key sessions:
1. Steady
2. Strength – eg hills
3. Race pace
4. Intervals
Quality over quantity
Don’t faff, have your equipment clothes and food ready
Rest days are important…
…as are off seasons, have a break!

Make Marginal Gains

Incorporate strength & conditioning
Sleep
Massage & physio
Nutrition & hydration

Your mind in your most powerful weapon, train your brain

Train alone, some of the time
Remember your goals and motives
Use positive words & affirmations, have a mantra
Break the session or race into smaller, manageable segments and stay in the moment
Test yourself and recall your ability to cope

“Accept that you are not a professional athlete. The aim is to be the best in the context of your life”

We finished the session with a team photo in which Chrissie was more than happy to wear the Chaser vest!

I came away from Chrissie’s talk feeling pretty inspired about sport again. Maybe I can get that Boston Qualifier after all, don’t be afraid to take a chance right? Huge thanks to Chrissie for sharing her top tips, her enthusiasm, encouragement and for simply being herself, you’re our favourite!

They say you shouldn’t meet your heroes. Don’t listen to what they say.

Bournemouth Marathon Festival: Just the Half

On October 12, 2015 By Girl Running CrazyIn Race Reports2 Comments

I was really excited when Bournemouth announced they were launching a ‘Marathon Festival’. Since I moved to London, I haven’t been short of local races to participate in, of any distance, but there’s always something special about doing your favourite thing in the place you still kinda call home. Especially when it looks like this.

Although the first festival was in 2013, marathon clashes left me cheering on the sidelines so this was the first year I had the opportunity to take part. There is a Bournemouth Bay half marathon in April, but the timing is no good for people running spring marathons, and it’s been plagued by bad reviews more recently. A Bournemouth Marathon Festival is just what the town needed to compete with the likes of Brighton and Portsmouth for running events.

The Festival spans over the weekend with a ‘Supersonic 10k’, ‘Supernova 5k’ and junior races on Saturday afternoon, and the Half and Full Marathons on the Sunday. There’s something for the whole family…unless you hate running of course…but we all know the sun always shines in Bournemouth so it’s worth a trip for cheering duties anyway!

I was in for the Half and the weather was looking mighty fine – sunny, dry, and maybe even a little too warm later in the day but, with a, err, sociable 8am start for my race I didn’t have to worry too much.

Mum & Dad dropped me off at Kings Park bright and early and I bumped into Chaser buddy Ed. Ed was in the elite start and, after a quick chat, I was in no doubt he would finish in the top 10. I dropped off my bag, headed to the toilet and started to panic…the queue was reeeaaally long and I only had about half an hour!

I ran into my friend Rick, who I hadn’t seen for ages, but didn’t even get a chance to speak to him because of the disturbing queue situation. By the time it got to 7.45 I had to give up as the start was a bit of a walk away, I was promised there were plenty more toilets there… After a jog over, I got into another queue, there definitely were not ‘plenty’, why was everyone taking soooo long?! Sensing my increasing stress, 4 lovely ladies let me go in front of them, I made my start pen with 2 minutes to spare so I’m hugely grateful they did (thank you kind ladies!!)

It was dry and sunny as promised, but it was too early to be very warm. The course headed through a residential street before turning onto Overcliffe Drive towards Bournemouth and switching back towards Southbourne at 3.5 miles. We could see the leaders coming in the other direction and I spotted Ed in 6th place so gave him a cheer.

I was feeling surprisingly good, I’d had a cold earlier in the week so thought I might find it tough but my watch said I was running faster than I felt I was so I was obviously in race mode. I knew I would slow at some point but I didn’t feel like I was pushing too hard so found it difficult to slow down deliberately.

At 6 miles we ran down onto the beach front and switched back towards Bournemouth again along the promenade. It was getting warmer but it was nice to be beside the sea again, even if there wasn’t a welcome wind. At about 8.5 miles we came off the promenade and back up to Overcliffe Drive, this involved a fairly short but pretty sharp hill, I plodded on up but something made me give up half way and I walked (ohhh the shame!).

I totally lost momentum at this point, but a mile later we headed back down to the promenade near the finish line and the crowds thickened. I spotted Rick’s girlfriend, who gave me a cheer, and I rounded the corner to see Mum, Dad and my brother. I smiled and sped off (well, sort of).

The next section was tough, the course took us away from the crowds and the finish area and back along the front towards Boscombe again, the route is basically a giant zig zag. My pace had slowed and I felt a bit rubbish. I needed sugar, why didn’t I stick a gel in my pocket? Always stick a gel in your pocket! They were actually handing gels out at some point, stupidly I didn’t take one. I was stupid and gel-less and struggling.

We ran to Boscombe Pier, along the Pier, turned around and started to head back. I still felt rubbish with only a mile to go and I had a minute walking break which seemed a little ridiculous so close to the finish. Of course, at this point I saw Rick coming towards me, whilst walking…busted!

As we got closer to the crowds I tried to go a little faster, I saw my family again, headed up Bournemouth Pier, turned around and ran straight over the finish line. It was a 1:50:41 finish. It was OK but it could have, and probably should have, been a little better… As for Ed, he smashed it and finished in 7th place!

All in all though, I loved racing back home by the beach and the best bit was I got to have post run cuddles with my little niece and a homemade dinner from Mum!

My thoughts on the Bournemouth Marathon Festival Half:

Amazing location (obvs)
Fab weather (again, obvs)
Plenty of smiley marshals (probs local, Bournemouth-ians are the best!)
Plenty of water stations & a gel stop
Not enough toilets at the start
A speed-zapping stupid hill will, erm, zap your speed, so be prepared!
The last 7 miles are exposed on the beach front so has potential to be windy
The baggage truck isn’t in an ideal location at the finish, I don’t want to fight through spectators to get my stuff!
Fab t-shirt in a great colour (at least it wasn’t another blue one!)
Fab chunky medal
Probably PB potential…you can counteract the hill with the downward slopes (if you don’t walk the stupid hill)

Marathon du Medoc: The Boozy One

On September 20, 2015September 20, 2015 By Girl Running CrazyIn Marathon Chat, Race Reports18 Comments

You don’t need to be an experienced runner to know there are a few basic rules to marathon running. Stay hydrated, avoid alcohol, get a good nights sleep, eat a hearty breakfast and make sure you’ve trained in your race kit. Pretty simple. So, when I turned up on the start line of my 12th marathon with a hangover, on 4 hours sleep, an empty stomach and a leopard print skirt, I wasn’t sure if I would make it to the finish line in one piece…

Marathon du Medoc claims to be ‘le marathon le plus long du monde’ (the longest marathon in the world). And now I know why…

Medoc is one of those races on every marathoners’ bucket list, quite simply, it’s the craziest marathon on earth. Rather than the usual water and electrolyte stops, there are around 20 wine stations hosted by different châteaus around the beautiful Medoc region in France, proudly waiting to let you sample their finest red whilst you have a dance to a live band before you run along to the next one!

Gourmet food stops including oysters, steak, cheese and croissants line the route, as well as the usual banquet of fruit, crisps, crackers and fig rolls you seem to get at every European marathon, and everyone is in fancy dress. Fancy dress is the Marathon du Medoc law.

Whilst it’s certainly a race with a difference, it’s now so successful, this year was the 31^st event and it sold out within 24 hours! In all credit to the organisers, despite its huge popularity they still limit entries to 8,500 to avoid compromising the race experience.

Gemma, Martin and I had been excited for months, we flew to Bordeaux (the nearest main City where we were staying) on the Wednesday, which would give our bodies a chance to get used to the toxic levels of wine that would be necessary for success (sensible training approach).

Friday was registration day, so we headed to race HQ in Pauillac where they had set up a little race village with a few stalls and a bar (obvs). Registration was a little chaotic but the queue was short so could have been worse!

We had a few beers (and maybe a champagne…hey, we were on holiday!) and walked along the river where there was some wine tasting and various food on offer (the snails did not look happy). Martin and Gemma had a plate of oysters (my previous history with oysters is that they always make me throw up, today was no different but I tried) and we enjoyed the sunshine.

Part of our race package included a pasta dinner party and, this year, it was hosted at Château Senilhac. On arrival we were greeted with a live band and several tables of wine and crisps before being invited into the marquee for dinner. The best way to describe the whole look and feel of it is exactly like a wedding!

Dinner was chorizo pasta to start and duck and pasta for main (not ideal if you don’t eat chorizo or duck but I worked around it!), and some kind of foamy meringue thing for dessert. By this point, we’d made some new friends and all had way too much red wine (to add to the white wine, beer and champagne…) so Martin decided it would be an awesome idea to have a few games of ‘who can inhale their dessert the fastest?’. 5 desserts each, another magnum of wine, and a fireworks display later, it was definitely time to go home.

It was a pretty long drive back to Bordeaux which meant we didn’t stumble into bed, a little worse for wear, until 1.30am. With a 5.30 alarm it wasn’t ideal. The next morning was a bit hazy and a bit rushed but we headed out in the dark and rain to get the coach back to Pauillac for the start. The coach was 40 minutes late. The driver was lost. It was raining. We were not impressed, especially as we’d rushed out without taking breakfast (5 deserts might not have been a bad idea after all).

Finally, the rain had stopped and we managed to arrive hour before the 9.30 start. We quickly realised our hangovers weren’t alone, but the atmosphere was thick with excitement as people buzzed around all smiley and wide eyed in their fancy dress outfits, it was a far cry from the solemn seriousness that usually graces marathon day morning.

This year the theme was ‘dressed to the nines’ but there were a real mix of outfits from dresses, shirts and bow ties to a full on Moulin Rouge cart, if you were in regular running clothes, you really hadn’t understood the spirit of the event!

The entertainment started early – a giant silver ball suspended over the start line dangled acrobats on aerial silks as they twirled above the crowd and, before we knew it, we were off! The start was slow going but we weren’t in any rush. The official cut off time is 6 hours 30 so, for those who are serious about it, the ideal finish time is 6:29:59!

It wasn’t long before we reached the breakfast stop at 2k, tables of mini croissants and pastries, I was starving! Buttery pastries aren’t my usual choice of marathon day brekkie so I conservatively picked up 2 mini croissants and we ran on, I didn’t want to be sick in the first 30 minutes!

Wine was served from the 5k marker, it may have only been 10am but it was delicious! We knocked it back and jogged on. The wine stations came thick and fast for the first 9 miles and we revelled in the novelty of legitimately boozing whilst running, what was technically, a race.

Each station came with well dressed waiters in the château grounds, some with live bands, but all with plenty wine and snacks as we guzzled back glass after glass. There was a section in the middle with fewer wine stops and this is when the rain hit us, there was a LOT of rain! It was around this time we realised that a marathon is still, errr, a marathon and it’s still a bloody long way!

Around the half way mark I started to feel quite sick, probably not surprising, but I was seriously weighing up the risk of splattering the vineyards with the very grapes that had once grown there. Luckily, the feeling passed! The second half saw more fabulous châteaus, amazing red wine, entertainment and beautiful vineyards, but the rain wasn’t going anywhere.

Our paced slowed as we spent more and more time at each wine station, we started having 2 or 3 glasses each time and, at 20 miles, we were even given a healthy shot of whiskey…when in France right?! The gourmet food came in the last 4 miles, I guess they didn’t want too many people feeling sick when there was still a fair way to go.

We dined on oysters (kept this one down), cheese, steak (not me), more crisps, and (if they hadn’t run out by the time we got there), ice cream!

I’m not sure whether it was the wine, lack of sleep or my post ultra legs (can I still use that excuse?!) but, by this point, my legs were feeling pretty stiff and all I wanted to do was walk. Martin insisted we run so, giving it my best shot, I broke into a jog, but all I heard were fits of giggles behind me…apparently what I thought was an elegant jog was actually a very stiff shuffle. Drunk, soaking wet, and slightly broken, it looked like the Marathon du Medoc had got me exactly where it wanted me, a bit of a mess.

We managed to jog the last mile or so and crossed the finish line together in 6:28:59, couldn’t have timed it better! Tired and happy we headed to the finishers tent, obviously it was time for our free beer! The beer tent brought more carnage as we bumped into a fellow Chaser, and we inadvertently got ourselves involved in one too many rounds of drink downing with a big group of rugby lads. Well, what else would you do right after you finished a marathon?!

The evening brought more wine, more champagne, more live music and a pretty spectacular fireworks display. Another very late and drunken night, but an exhilarating experience with 2 of my favourite people!

Despite the nature of the event, we only actually saw one person in need of medical attention which is far fewer than any other marathon I’ve run. There’s plenty of water when you want it and, as long as you’re marathon fit and in good health, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a really enjoyable run and take advantage of everything on offer. Do it with friends, do it in fancy dress, do it with a smile on your face and do it with a glass of wine in your hand, but make sure you do it.

It’s clear Medoc are very proud of their marathon and they certainly should be, it’s a beautifully extraordinary and unique event and they’ve found the winning formula. We absolutely loved every minute of it (well, almost, Martin got stroppy in the rain at 15 miles) and I’ve already decided it won’t be my last time.

Medoc, you were glorious, until next time, merci et bonne nuit.

The Day I Became an Ultrarunner

On September 5, 2015September 18, 2019 By Girl Running CrazyIn Race Reports11 Comments

It was 4.20am when my alarm went off on Saturday. I felt sick. 10 minutes later, our temporary-static-home-by-the-sea started to creek as the 5 of us stirred. Today was the day we would be attempting to run the 36 miles of the St Begas Ultra. And I was terrified.

It had taken us 9 hours to drive from London to St Bees, the North West Cumbrian coast, the day before (an event in itself when you have an Alex in the car) but we arrived in good time to relax in our caravan (yes caravan) which was located a few minutes away from where the race would finish the next day.

There were 10 of us in total, but for Frankie, Alex, Dale & myself it would be the first time we’d ever ventured more than 26.2 miles in our trainers. It was pretty tense. Alex handled the pressure well…

I hadn’t quite got my head around the concept of running 36 miles, it didn’t really make any sense to me. How far was 36 miles exactly? All I really knew was that it was a bloody long way, it was off road, and it was hilly. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, I wasn’t sure why anyone would even want to do it.

In all honesty I think I had my head in the sand for most of the summer, I tried not to think too much about it. I trained as usual, putting in the miles, but I wasn’t convinced it was enough. I struggled through my long runs more than I usually would and I had a heavy sense of foreboding that was difficult to shake.

I just didn’t know what I was doing. How do you prepare yourself for that kind of distance? I didn’t really know, especially when it was a trail race. Did I mention that I’m not good at trail running?! You may be wondering why the hell I signed up for such I challenge. I don’t really know that either. I didn’t really know a lot. But here I was, embarking on a challenge that genuinely terrified me to the core because some sick, twisted part of me really wanted to do it. I wanted to be an ultrarunner.

Sensible race prep in a windy St Bees the night before

Last Christmas, my friend Chris generously offered to run the race with me and pace me to the finish. He made me a pinky promise. This was a wonderful offer, with Chris by my side my chances of survival would double. But it also worried me. Chris is the ultimate ultrarunner, and he’s bloody good at it.

Amongst other crazy things, he’s spent 24 hours running round a 400m athletic track (over 100 miles) and, just recently, he came 13th in the 120 mile, 6 day Transrockies Run in the States. He’s pretty hardcore. And I am not.

I was hugely grateful for Chris’s offer, but I didn’t think I could take him up on it. If he was willing to give up his own race to run with me then I risked letting him down, as well as myself. I wasn’t sure what he expected from me – there was a real chance I wouldn’t even make the finish line. Without me dragging him down he could have a really good run, and that thought really bothered me.

As time went on, Chris continued to insist he wanted to be a part of my race and I became more mentally reliant on having him there. There were so, so many things I was worried about, but those worries would be halved if I wasn’t alone. My biggest worry was getting helplessly lost at 30 miles, but with Chris’s experience we’d never get lost, right?!

At around 5am we headed to the neighbouring caravan, where the others were staying, for breakfast. It was the middle of the sodding night and I was trying to force feed myself porridge, not ideal. Registration closed promptly at 6 so we headed down to race HQ to sign away our lives on the waiver and get our long list of mandatory kit approved.

SBU35 (annoying named as it’s actually 36 miles!), is a point to point race that starts at Bass Lake, near Keswick, and follows the route of a legendary Irish princess who travelled between 2 chapels bearing her name (I’m damn sure she didn’t do it on foot though…) Simply, course takes you through the Lake District to St Bees, our little village on the West Coast, but of course it wasn’t that simple.

On the coach journey to the start Chris and I discussed the plan (err, a plan?) The first thing he made clear was that pace was irrelevant, but we had to keep moving forwards and take advantage of the easy sections when we could. He also gave me 3 rules:

I absolutely had to finish. No matter what.
If anything happened to him, and he couldn’t go on, I had to go on without him (I couldn’t even entertain that one.)
Some standard toilet protocol with a couple of sub-clauses.

The race was completely self-navigating, there would be no course markings at all. We were each given a 34 page booklet we had to carry with us with a lot of instructions. Russell had done his best explain the route, but it all just blurred into one long, horrifying list of doom.

What I didn’t find out until last weekend was that Chris tends to get lost on every race he does, together with my navigational disabilities it could be a disaster. Good thing we were all carrying a mandatory compass I didn’t know how to use…

Chasers ready to run…and run…and run…

After a race briefing, 117 hardy fools were set on our way…we were running an ultramarathon! The weather was dry, and a little cool, but after the recent bad weather I knew we would be very lucky to make it through the whole day without wind and rain. I’d have to cross that bridge when I came to it.

We started on an incline which went on much longer than I expected, but the pace was gentle so we chatted away. As we came to the first decent I encountered the first of many ‘what the hell am I doing?’ moments. It was steep. And slippy. And I hated it. I thought it might be the right time to confess to Chris how bad I was at downhill running as he patiently waited for me…

After the nail-biting slip n slide, the rest of the first leg was pretty enjoyable. It was mostly flat on a mix of footpaths and road and we ran round a beautiful lake which made me feel instantly calm. Apart from a small detour where we ran up a stream (and a grumpy man who followed us and did not see the funny side) , it was a nice run up to check-point 1.

At the checkpoint we dibbed our dibbers (so they knew we were alive), filled up our water and had a couple of Jelly Babies. I really struggle to eat on the move but I knew I was going to have to take on a lot more energy if I didn’t want to crash. I had a gel and some shot bloks and hoped I could avoid real food for a bit longer.

A couple of miles after we left the CP, things took a turn. We were 13 miles into a 36 mile race and I was struggling mentally, I couldn’t see how I was going to finish. It was the beginning of my first dark time and it would go on a while.

As we approached what would be the longest hill of the day, we spotted Adam and Liz waiting to cheer us on. As happy as I was to see them, I just couldn’t bring myself to smile, their friendly faces would make me cry and I needed to be strong.

The hill was a beast. From the bottom, all I could see were brightly coloured lycra-clad runners making their way up a grey mountain. It was steep, and it went on and on. We walked up and I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, head down, mostly worrying about what we would face on the decent. As we started to reach the top the wind started to howl, I could barely hear Chris when he insisted we stop to layer up as the rain came in. It was getting brutal.

The ground was that awkward type, large stones everywhere, half hidden in grass, difficult to run on but also not steep enough to justify walking. We plodded on. As the decent came into sight my heart dropped, we were basically going down a mountain. This was no longer trail running, it was fell.

The wind and rain whipped us from all angles as we (well, I, Chris could run) scrambled and slid down the wet stones, climbing over rocks and slipping over. I made slow progress. Obvs.

This was my lowest point. Not only did I find it really hard, but I felt awful for making Chris go so slowly when the weather was so fierce, I couldn’t wait to get to the bottom. Russell estimated I’d finish between 8-9 hours but, after clocking a depressing 31 minute mile I was pretty sure I’d be a lot slower than that. Perhaps my first introduction to fell running shouldn’t have been in the middle of my first ultra.

When we had finally weaved our way down, the wind dropped and the next 4 miles were on solid, flat ground all the way to CP2. By this point we were on around 21 miles, I’d found my confidence again, and I didn’t feel too bad. I had half a jam sandwich (why not?!) and a lucozade and we were on our way again.

After a couple of miles we reached another lake and there were some more flat sections we tried to make up some time on, but it wasn’t long before we were climbing again. By this point we were over 25 miles and it was the start of another dark time. I had some sugar, put my head down and concentrated on following Chris as he navigated us along the paths.

I didn’t feel good. I felt weak, tired, and emotionally unstable. There was still such a long way to go and I knew there’d be another steep section coming up soon. We plodded on. I didn’t have much chat, I just tried to hold it together and not look at my watch every few minutes.

The scenery was beautiful, it really was, but it was difficult to appreciate. The miles ticked by until we faced our last big hill, a very steep path through the forest. It was tough, but I didn’t really mind, as we walked up we were inching ever closer to the final CP. At the top, the path levelled out to a grassy section that was very boggy, one wrong move and you lost half a leg in the mud (Frankie actually fell into a bog up to her thighs and had to be rescued by Russell, there are no words to explain how gutted I am he didn’t take a photo!)

The downhill was steep, but grassy, I don’t remember it being awful but nothing could be as awful as the previous decent! A short while later we reached CP3 and I had a piece of homemade flapjack and some sweets, sugar was the answer to everything at this point! The marshals were brilliant, checking we were OK, filling up our water and sending us on our way.

I left in high spirits, 32.5 miles down and only 4.3 to go! I knew we’d be nearer 37 but I didn’t care, I just wanted to get to the finish. My high spirits were short lived, after plodding along a lane (still running I might add!) we turned into some fields which forced us to run on a camber as we seemed to climb over stile after stile. I was emotionally unstable again and Chris’s jokes weren’t funny. I could see the school where the finish was but it wasn’t getting any closer.

Eventually we reached the last field and the finish line was about 400m away. I could spot Adam in the distance and, as we got closer, I could hear people cheering loudly and realised it was all my friends, I hadn’t expected them to all be there waiting. As if I wasn’t emotional enough at the end, coming home to everyone cheering the only way Chasers know how pushed me over the edge.

After 8 hours, 36 minutes & 21 seconds covering a tough 36.8 miles, I had just become an ultrarunner and I was completely overwhelmed!

Photo: Sarah Peck

In absolute bits, I have never been happier to see these guys and I was so pleased everyone had finished in one piece. Not only that, but Alex had only gone and come 2nd in his first ever ultra, James had come 7th and Cat was 3rd lady. Everyone else had done really well and Frankie was also over the moon to join the ultra club after being paced by Russell (if finishing a little muddy…)

The crew. Sorry Frankie (she’s the one with the LAD pose), it’s the only finishers photo I have!

The SBU35 was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It tested me in ways I’ve never been tested before and I honestly couldn’t have got through it without Chris. He was more than just a pacer, he was a navigator, counsellor, comedian and morale booster, without him I would have gotten terribly lost, walked a lot more and broken down. I most certainly would not have finished in little over 8.5 hours (which put us 60th out of 109 finishers!). Thanks Chris, you were an absolute rock.

The next day we went for a little walk on the beach, found some fish and chips and Frankie, Lorraine and I spent the rest of the day in the pub. Not Alex and Russell though, no, they went and climbed Scafell Pike with Adam and Liz, what else would they do after running 37 miles?!

This is my friend Alex. He had a few drinks on Friday. Came 2nd in his first ever ultramarathon on Saturday. Had a few more drinks. Then climbed Scafell Pike on Sunday. In his pants.