A dry run in Bath

I did it. I actually got around my first official race and in a decent time too; 13.1 miles in 2 hours 13 minutes. Not bad huh! Being part of the reason a city grinds to a halt for 12,000 crazy individuals who decided at some point in 2012 to accept the Bath Half challenge was amazing. Being amongest so many charity runners doing something selfless for the good of others is a powerful emotion. Being over taken by a banana... humiliating!

As a complete novice I had absolutely no idea what to expect, least of all the nerves which seemed to rise the closer the train drew to Bath. I thought I was pretty well prepared; well trained, had a target time, carb loaded... And whilst I realise the previous 48 hours had not been ideal pre race conditions (late night, early mornings and a 3.5 mile hike) the Bath Half was really more about experiencing a real race before the marathon.

So what did I learn? For me the most important thing was don't panic. The first mile or two was at a very slow pace due to the crowds and I did what every book, article, blog and expert cautions against; I went too fast to make up for the loss. Lucky this was my "easy week" so having built up my core stamina and mental abilities over my long runs since Christmas, I was able to just about continue the race at this higher pace. It was helped considerably by the fact that I had £40 riding on finishing in under 2 hours 15 mins (thanks Nicole, Lorraine, Jude and Pip). But believe me this is not something I would be able to do across 26 miles and so NUMBER ONE lesson is: listen to the experts they really do know what they are talking about.

I had already planned to write my name on my running shirt for the marathon but the benefit of this was made even more apparent in Bath. The crowds really seem to carry people - and for me in Bath the deep routed psychology of not hearing my name shouted and supported (like the the kid at school who no-one liked) was really de-motivating.

Take a bag. I had assumed that as I had supporters they would "hold my stuff". But it was only as I started stripping off my warmer outer clothes (trackie bums, sweatshirt and coat) and witnessed the growing bundle of clothing that I realised I hadn't even bought a bag. At all big races there are luggage tents so this is the place for belongings... not for your supporters to carry (especially when they also have a 7 year old, a 2 year old, a supply of snacks, entertainment and nappys! to carry and manage).

Have post race fuel ready in your kit bag. The Bath Half post race goodie bag was full of quick hit sugar rushes (and a random Corss and Blackwell cooking sauce!?) but having spent the past 2 hours chewing/drinking and sucking a veritable smorgasbord of sugar packed, artificial flavoured sweet things I was in desperate need of a savoury hit. For once a Mars a day just wasn't going to help me rest and play!

At the end of challenge number 1 I have raised a tremendous £1300 and, selfishly, have my very first bit of metal - engraved with my name and official time - and my name listed in the Bath Chronicle. I hadn't realised how proud I would be of these items and I can't begine to imagine how amazing I will post marathon. With only 5% of the population ever undertaking a marathon this is huge (and I will be milking it!).

15 miles of grey

After the desperation I felt yesterday following my 15 mile run and having very little left in me (certainly not another 11 miles) today was a good day! Having woken with a heavy heart that simply wanted to throw in the marathon towel I was struggling to even see the logic. I know I am more than half way through, that I have not (so far and touch wood) experienced injury or set backs and that I only have another 5 long runs left before the big day but I just couldn't shake my grey cloud which focussed on my 30 mile minimum weekly mileage and screamed I WANT MY WEEKENDS BACK!

However, having limped into work I caught up with the Head of People and Environment (HOPE!) and was delighted that the talent evening I proposed last week has been given the green light. I am so excited that we can have a fun night at the local pub and really showcase some of the talent (or lack of talent) we have. I am thinking maybe some accoustic singing, a fancy performance of Beyonce's "Single Ladies" (check out the video and the aspirational thighs here), a "Morecombe and Wise" comedy duo or maybe a couple of rounds of Radio 4s "Just a minute". Whatever gets showcased it is bound to be fun and help raise some great funds for the onemillionpence charities which is great. Grey cloud was beginning to be blown away....

But it gets better - later in the day it was announced at the company meeting that for every penny a TMPer donates, the company will match it (up to a phenomenal total of £1000)! That is such a huge amount that I am so thankful and grateful for. It has given me the lift I needed and suddenly the pain becomes worth it and my commitment and determination comes back with a vengance.

And it gets better still; I have received the amazing news that my lovely sis-in-laws chemo is actually doing its job and the bugger is being blown away all thanks to some amazing doctors and nurses, lashings of positive thinking and some fantastic medicine combos.

So note to self: "Always look at the bright side of life!"

Bring it on!

The confessions of a novice runner

I knew today's run was going to be hard. 15 miles is a crazy amount of miles to run and I approached it with more caution than my previous runs and I am sure this mental doubt certainly hindered my efforts, along with the snow, sleet and rain that had me soaked to the bone by mile 4!

For the past 7 weeks, my weekly long run has increased week on week, never allowing me to simply plateau for a week and repeat the distance with confidence. Whilst I know this is an important part of the marathon mental preparation as I will never actually run the full 26.2 miles before the big day, it is really hard going. Thankfully, next week I get to repeat my 15 miles before increasing to 17... gulp!

However today's run did have a few highlights including a row with a dog walker (and I admit I might have been in the wrong for which I must pass blame to my obviously low Glycogen stores)! Now before you read the following please also consider that I had spent a good few miles being "shot" at by the Saturday shoot. Seriously they were out in force today and at points I was leaping around so my fluro jacket was seen (in my mind through a gun sight) and I wasn't mistake for a plump Partridge. Many times I nearly pooped my pants as the shots felt like they were whizzing straight past my ear and that I was an extra in Saving Private Ryan!

So with no further excuses as I can tell you are itching for the goss here goes my-row-with-an-oldie in glorious technicolor detail. Imagine it, mile 11, cold, tired, wet and 4 miles still to go. At this point I had been running for nearly 2 hours and hadn't seen any sign off life for 6 miles, apart from being shot at which does very little to warm the cockles for humanity. So when I finally did I was so overcome with being back in civilisation that I think I experienced extreme acclimatisation (surely it is not farfetched?). So there I was going stir crazy, thighs aching when I saw a man a few hundred yards in front of me with two dogs, one of which was squatting. To my utter horror, when the squatting dog returned to the more traditional standing pose his owner failed to remove the offending item with a poopa scooper (lesson number one: not all dogs are male). So (and here is my second lesson) without removing my headphones I pointed to the spot and said "pick up the poo". Now I appreciate that seeing a crazy runner lady wearing a (slightly too small) boys Florescent jacket, orange shorts over running leggings, ski head band and 80s legwarmers shouting might be a little starting. Add to the equation that I was probably suffering from headphone deafness which amplified my "pick up the poo" comment to screaming banshee levels. At this he gave me a quizzical look (which I took as defiance) so I repeated myself and this time he responded. Now because I still hadn't removed my headphones I couldn't make out the response but was now close enough to lip read the word "bitch". At this I yanked my headphones out of my ear and said "there is no need to be offensive, I was simply asking you to pick up your dog poo" to which I got the reply "I simply said my dog is a bitch and had just urinated"... OMG please ground swallow me.... nope that didn't work so instead I picked up my pace and ran on.

Cringy huh! But it got worse when I realised that the song playing (and which was still belting out in clear audible tones to the poor man) was, you guessed it, WHO LET THE DOGS OUT. Seriously you couldn't make this stuff up!

I will be buying next months Cotswold Style to see if  "angry resident of Faringdon" has complained about crazy runner lady listening to tunes supporting the irresponsible release of dogs!

So dear readers... am I forgiven?

Top of the Pops

Like most busy parents of young children, contact with my family is usually a hurried call in between bath and bed routines, or whilst cooking supper. Sound familiar? Anyway today my family got lucky. Having finished my 12 mile run and eaten a nutritious lunch of poached eggs on toast I tackled the ironing mountain (oh the glamour that is my life!). As usual just as I started the job in hand the phone rang and I immediately recognised the number as my folks. Answering the phone "Hi Mum" I was surprised to hear the deeper tones of a male voice on the end; Pops!

Now I don't know about you but it is very rare that my Dad calls me and it always makes my heart skip a beat immediately imagining the worst! I am delighted to reveal that on this occasion nothing serious was being reported, indeed the opposite.

It transpires that my dear pops had taken the concept of one million pence on a roadshow. Today he went about offering to relieve acquaintances of their loose change all for the 1,000,000 pence cause.  Two pockets later my cause was 252 pence richer. Now whilst this is nothing to write home about but as is our unofficial slogan (borrowed and tweaked from a household supermarket where horseburgers are all the rage) every penny helps!

Now the exciting bit (on the edge of the sofa yet?) is that 2 or 3 people mentioned that, like most people, they have a change jar at home. Apart from the occasional raid of silver for school dinners or parking the dull coppers are left lonely in the jar. So it transpires that these lovely people have pledged their copper jar contents to the 1,000,000 pence cause which is great news. I mean who really EVER pays for anything with a copper? And do you know anyone who actually cashes it their change jar? They (and the annoyingly little 5ps) just clog up purses and pockets across the land, rarely being passed into a till, let alone reaching the heady heights of a bank safe!

And so it got Pops and I chatting about how we can give a home to these lovely tarnished coins. A few hours later and I am the proud owner of 100 x 8oz paper cups (minus the tea bag!).

Now I plan to fashion a "piggy bank hole" in the lid and brand with 1,000,000 pence for colleagues, friends and acquaintances to pop on their desks/ in their staff room/ by their change jar so they are constantly prompted that we are more than happy to accept the brown stuff. Their insignificant change is one step closer to the million. So if you want one please add a comment to this blog and I will be sure to deliver one in person!

So where some dads seeing their daughter take on a challenge similar to mine, might sign up to the run the marathon, others might pledge huge sums of money, and some might simply smile and mutter "that's nice dear", in my Pops together with his creative might and confident quirky approach to everything really is Top of the Pops!

S'no joke!

This recent deluge of snow has had me in a real quandry. Usually I am the first one chanting for snow and building snowmen but this week I have watched the weather reports in alarm. The forecasted snow reports put my carefully devised and systematically followed training plan in danger. Seriously I have become the type of running bore (AKA big brother) that I used to tease!

Having missed yesterdays run due, in part, to the 3 foot of snow that lay on the ground but also as a precaution from an injury sustained during my extreme sport class on Monday (ballet) I spent far too much time last night pondering my options instead of sleeping:

1) accept a missed weekend of training
2) undertake a short training programme on the treadmill
3) attempt 2 hours on the treadmill

None of these were proving acceptable options as I have become paranoid that missing just one long run will undo all my training thus far. And so in true Mad Dog and Englishmen style I donned my gear this morning and went on my 12 mile run. 2 hours later I had perfected the art of ice-running ... which looks very similar to i've-had-an-accident. In fact some sledge pulling, baseball cap wearing teen even shouted out a less polite version to me which was quite some highlight. It seems I have reached the age where I no longer provoke wolf whistle reactions but rather suggestions of incontinence. Wow how rock and roll.

Anyway it was such a beautiful run I stopped to take some pics (another reason for the poor pace I like to think)

Yes I ran along these and managed to get home intact. And having read the importance of ice baths I decided to use nature and ice al fresco!

And before you ask... yes my luminous shorts do match my luminous trainers and yes they did look  ridiculous but gave me some derrier warmth. And yes those are leg warmers - normally only used  for ballet (and fancy dress naturalment) so it was good to get some additional wear from them. I have to admit I do look rather fetching and would have blended in perfectly at an 80s keep fit convention. Talking of which it did prompt me to add "Let's get physical" by the gorgeous Olivia Newton John to my running playlist. Hilarious video - click the link above.

And whilst I think about it I have added one more beaut to the running playlist. "We Speak No Americano" by Yolanda Be Cool. Doesn't ring a bell? If you have watched the Inbetweeners Movie and the hideously embarrasing dance scene in the club... link here for those of you who want to watch it again. I actually do some of the arm moves whilst running and then start laughing... oh dear me.

So my determination is keeping me focussed and the donations are slowly coming in (we are now at £180 thanks to a recent donation from Karen - thank you!) but if you haven't already sponsored me then please think about the hours and pain and commitment this marathon is and click here to sponsor me. I promise to refrain from closing each and every post with a plea for cash but today I have even impressed myself with how deep I dug but it is not just me who is impacted; Tom and Thea lose mummy for a portion of the weekend whilst I train, Mark supports me in every way possible and more, friends have agreed to have Thea so Mark and Tom can come and support me in London without having to amuse an inquisitive 2 year old, other friends have arranged my pre marathon shelter at their brother in laws in Greenwich and many more people. I know this just the start of a year where my friends and family will amaze me with their love, support and generosity. So thank you!

Size DOES matter...

It's official... yesterday I became the proud recipient of the BIGGEST parcel ever... HR even took a picture of the box to excite me until I got home. Check out its proportions - it only just cleared the roof.

Honestly no word of a lie it was as large as a single bed (our 7 year old wants to keep it for a den) and it contained my lovely new shiny treadmill. So guess what we spent a few hours doing last night? Yep setting the puppy up – a few nuts and bolts, a smattering of swearing and a kick or two was all it took between the facilities manager and myself before the beast was ready. I can now train come rain or shine, day or night, babysitter or not. Let’s hope I use it as much as I had promised procurement (it will not become an expensive clothes rack, it will not become an expensive clothes rack, it will not....).

However I confess all: in true female form I might have upgraded the model bought at the last minute (I didn't think Iogstics would notice but it seems I was wrong). What was the rationale for the upgrade? Well I could talk of the additional programmes, increased incline, larger run bed but, I can't lie, it has speakers and MP3 adapter. Who could resist such gadgetery?

So this evening I excitedly popped my training gear on and entered what is going to become my second home: the garage. My lovely new shiny toy awaited its virgin voyage and to ensure I was suitably focussed and motivated coach pinned inspiring images at eye level.

If you can't work it out they are colour print outs of the London marathon to keep me focussed. I think this might have been a joke and it had the appropriate response... I couldn't help giggle and think what a great team I have behind me. This is absolutely a team effort; my coach is the best (facilities manager, procurement and logistics aren't too bad either)!

5 weeks down 15 to go gulp!

NYE = Rest day!

Having run more in the past week than I have EVER run (including a short icy run on Scotland on Christmas Day) I have managed to notch up a considerable 20.1 miles across 3.30 hours and burnt off my Christmas dinner (1689 calories). Now those stats are something I would have previously considered beyond me but before I go slapping myself on the back too hard the realisation is:

"somehow I need to be able to add another 6.1 miles and run in all in one sitting ('scuse the pun) before 21st April"

Ugh!

But today (New Years Eve) is not a day for pondering the mountain ahead. Plus the upside of having run three days on the trot I am on a rest day today hurrah. Instead I will be enjoying more than my fair share of fizz and food at the perfect party this evening; A "slob party" where I will be showcasing my festive gingerbread onesie (thanks Mum) as will Mark (a wolf - psychiatrists would have a field day about what this says of mum's relationship with Mark). For the first time ever a onesie is going to be considered over dressed and I am positively excited about the prospect. Yes this does mean I am most definitely the wrong side of 35 but I don't care cos I ACHE all over. My feet are tired and heels are a definitely no no so thanks J&S for proposing the perfect NYE party theme.

One more piece of good news... having officially launched my 1,000,000 pence last night I now have my first donation from the lovely Mary Wiltshire. I am now on the road in more ways than one...

Happy New Year

The big realisation

So it is official. I have publically announced my quest to raise £10K in a year for cancer charities (read more about the back story to this challenge in the why 1,000,000 pence section). Shit. If you say it fast it almost sounds feasible but looking at the figures it equates to a stinkingly staggering £833.33 per month. With no fairy godmother / lottery win / sugar daddy in the wings I am going to have to think big. My friends pockets are certainly not that big (no comment men please!)

So my calculations mid run today were that the marathon and half marathon might net me £2K. But what about the other £8? Quiz nights (from PTA experience) can raise £1-2K, maybe I can get some corporate sponsporship for another £1-2K then what... ideas are running out. Maybe my adult ballet class can put on a performance... on second thoughts it would be more like a skit!

All I know is that if the half marathon wasn't challenge enough (3K has been the most I have ever run in my 37 years), then the marathon is pure idiocy. But to pledge to raise such a signifant amount whilst raising two children, running a home and holding down a full time career I must (and it has been said) be bonkers (a more polite term than was previously uttered by my better half.)

And it is at this point I think I need to mention that whilst I am gaily announcing such huge commitments there is someone without whom this would be impossible to achieve. Someone who will deserve my marathon medal more than me. Someone who will make me cry when I see his face in the crowds in London. So thank you. You know who you are and without you this is all impossible so it is our challenge and our pledge.

Now where can I find a sugar daddy... does anyone have Lord Sugars number?