Category: Running

Run Forest Run – Stroke Association Resolution Run 10k

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When I planned my races at the beginning of the year, I pencilled in the Cartmel 10k for March. When I actually looked at the logistics of the day, I realised that it was miles away, would mean a stupidly early start, would cost me nearly thirty quid and I couldn’t find anywhere that guaranteed me that there would be bling. For the right bling, I will travel miles, pay out good money and set my alarm clock for whatever time is needed. For no bling, well that’s another story.

Queue for the ladies - thankfully, I had just been...

Queue for the ladies – thankfully, I had just been…

After a bit of research, I eschewed the promise of scenic surroundings doing the St Helens 10k (also, no bling) and opted for the Stroke Association’s 10k Resolution Run in Delamere Forest. I liked the sound of a nice run in the woods and as a special mother’s day treat, I took mum along to be my race day support.

Start line before the organised jollity started

Start line before the organised jollity started

Like many charity races, there was a jolly warm up of bouncing around and waving arms (I think it was more choreographed than that). Now, rarely do I warm up to motivational music and even if I did opt into the bouncing, I’m so uncoordinated that I would probably punch someone in the face (by accident, obviously). For everybody’s safety I opted out of the warm up and skulked at the edge.

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The far biggest cheer of the morning went up when the race organiser announced that the route had been amended because one of the hills wasn’t safe to run. Yay!

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After a bit of a puddle-dodging bottleneck at the start, we all found our space and set off for two laps of the lake. It was all very scenic and tree-lined, and I didn’t even seem to mind that it was snowing a bit. Obviously the forest was still open to other people and we were sharing our route with walkers, non-racing runners,cyclists, horse-riders and a couple on a tandem. Overhead ran the ropes and bridges of Go Ape, an activity that I fancy doing until I remember my fears of gaps and edges.

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Being away from home and not being certain of the weather, I had hedged my bets by stuffing most of my kit in my bag before settling on long tights, my snug vest top, my thick long sleeved top and my gloves. Normally, my gloves are off by the first mile, but as I only regained the feeling in my fingers by mile four, they stayed on all the way to the end. My shiny new trainers are also now well and truly christened because of the mud and the puddles that were unavoidable throughout the route (I come from the “if you can’t go round it, you’ll have to go through it” school of thought).

Me and my murdering gloves showing off bling

Me and my murdering gloves showing off bling

Coming through the finish line there were two people handing out medals – I couldn’t get the attention of one of them and and when I approached the other, he announced gravely “I’ve run out…”. I dread to think what kind of dark expression passed across my face at that news. Luckily I spotted a woman delving into a box full of medals and went to help myself to bling (just one, I promise).

Just before I realised that there was a self-service medal box...

Just before I realised that there was a self-service medal box…

Reunited with mum (who was wonderfully easy to spot in her red anorak – it was like following Little Red Riding Hood through the woods, only she had a rucksack rather than a basket of goodies) we nipped into the cafe for some restorative cake and a sigh of relief that we didn’t end up being part of this event…

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There are 18 Resolution Runs nationwide covering 5, 10 and 15k distances – the race fee includes a t-shirt (or for an extra £2.50, a tecnhical running vest) and all help to raise funds and awareness for the Stroke Association.

Bling ahoy! Mad Dog 10k – Southport

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It was cold, it was wet, it was race day. With Ginge at work, it was up to mum to stand in as support crew (in charge of driving, photography and post-race hugs) and we set off to Southport in plenty of time. The council had changed parking arrangements this year and there was a park and ride set up to get us to the start line. Unfortunately, it turns out that the council had thought that one man would be enough to collect the parking charge from a thousand people… It turns out that it wasn’t and this led to a delay in people getting to the race and a half hour delay to the start time. I’ve just read on facebook that the race organiser contacted the car park man and told him to let everyone in and he would cover the cost. This sums up the kind of race this is.

It’s twice been voted the best 10k in the country by Runners World and I have to say that it’s a well deserved accolade. Starting from a school, there were warm corridors to take shelter in, indoor loos (and plentiful portaloos outside), a clockwork-like t-shirt collection and nice volunteers who let mum have a carrier bag to keep all my stuff in. There were loads of food vans (which smelled amazing) and a man with a megaphone keeping everyone updated on the delay.

Huddling at the start line for warmth, the Mad Dog theme was unmissable on the various fluorescent signs and with the sound of ‘Who Let the Dogs Out?’ ringing in our ears (well if getting away from that isn’t going to make you run faster I don’t know what would) we were off.

I set off by following the Grim Reaper  (who incidentally was accompanied by Tigger, which has to be the best his-and-hers fancy dress combo ever) until I overtook Death around the 2k mark. This point was also marked by a team of drummers who could be heard for about a kilometre either side of them (and there’s nothing like drummers to put a smile on my face and a spring in my step).

At 4k I high-fived Elvis.

Well-manned drinks stations between 5 and 6k, then ‘It’s raining men’ blasting out from route-side speakers, a fabulous marshal telling us we were on our way home, the sound of drummers getting louder as we reached 8k and then it was 9k and the end was in sight. After crossing the line we were handed a very weighty goody bag, fruit and more water if needed. Oh, and my chip time was texted to me by the time I found mum (less than five minutes after finishing. All this and I beat Death.

The support along the route was amazing, from the marshalls to the cadets to the staff from Chicquitos huddled under a gazebo, it was never-ending. Add to this the fact that there seemed to be something going on around every corner and this race passed quicker than any I have done.

And there’s also bespoke bling…

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And the goody bag was heavy for a reason…

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And there was a rather special technical t-shirt…

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Fingers crossed I’ll be running with the pack again next year.

Thank you to mum for being brilliant support, taking a photo of me where I look like I am actually running and bringing a flask of tea and a box of biscuits. She has made a rod for her own back with this one…

Janathon day thirty-one: end

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It’s all over.

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I know it’s all over because I have been allowed my traditional post-Athon barbecue and have gorged on sausage and Ginge’s homemade handground burgers (50% brisket, 50% sirloin, 0% horse). When I got in from work I wasn’t even allowed a crisp until I had gone out and run, which I suppose is fair enough.

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I only did a paltry 2 miles to take my Athon total to a round 110 (having learned about the perils of finishing on a Nelson from Abradypus, I wasn’t going to do 3 and I certainly wasn’t going to do 4…) but I did choose the direction that has more of a hill in it, so I’m not entirely lazy.

So, now we’re at the end of this ridiculous folly, have I learned anything? Kind of. I know my body is very unhappy with me, I am tired and lots of me aches. I am looking forward to a few rest days (happily these involve a weekend in London for the post-Janathon pizza and pub combo).

I have entered a ridiculous amount of races while I was giddy on Athon endorphins. I am now faced with the prospect of having to (a) train and (b) run them. I have my first one in just over a week…

I didn’t especially change my diet during Janathon and I certainly wasn’t on a diet, but it’s managed to take nearly 5lb off my weight at the start of the new year. This pleases me. This morning I saw numbers on the scales that I haven’t seen for months (possibly years) – this also pleases me, although after this weekend I suspect that I will be back at square one.

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Athoners are amazing. I have loved reading people’s blogs – old favourites and all the new ones – and love the fact that everyone tackles an Athon differently, but you know what? It doesn’t matter. Amongst the many that I have enjoyed, I am faint with admiration for Benjiboyw who has set a new Athon record of 501 miles. I have loved the daily sheeps of Jovial Gnome. And of course runningman856 who has been very gracious in defeat after our Janathon mini-challenge about who would do more miles (I suspect that this originally involved a drunken throwing down of gauntlets).  Thank you all for keeping me entertained, arse kicking me when necessary and for all your lovely comments on here. It’s certainly helped to keep me going – I was wary of doing Janathon after having such fun doing my Juneathon treasure hunt, but have enjoyed most (if not every) minute of it.

A special thank you has to go out to Ginge, without whom we would starve and live in squalor throughout the Athons. On the quiet, he has also exercised every day and has whinged a lot less than I have.

(Oh and of course thank you to the JogBlog, Queen of the Athons, without whom none of us would be doing any of this and who will be rewarded with flapjacks).

See you in June!

Janathon day thirty: inarticulate

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This morning’s run itself was pretty uneventful. Without going into too much detail, I had the sort of stomach cramps that make me reluctant to keep running further away from home, so I turned around after a mile and then tacked on an extra mile loop so that I could stay a bit nearer to facilitities…

One more Janathon run to go…

(I have run out of words, so here is a picture of a giraffe wearing a jaunty hat.)

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Janathon day twenty-nine: grumpy

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I was not feeling the Janathon love today. In my defence, there are just three days to go and mostly I have been annoyingly chirpy and giddy throughout the month. In fact, on the twentieth, when JogBlog tweeted that there was just eleven days to go, I had a little pang that it was all going to be over soon. Today the end cannot come quickly enough.

This morning everything ached. I would kill for a decent massage. None of this namby-pamby gentle soothing spa day massage to the sounds of whales playing panpipes, a  proper pummeling, deknotting massage that makes me swear. That would be lovely.

And I’ve spent the day feeling a bit off-side at work, out of sorts and a bit stressy and worried.

And I had been promised some of my colleague’s home-made soup for dinner, but when I got back to the office at two o’clock, it turned out that it was still in her fridge and it was too late for me to get anything else. So I just ate my fruit and an underfed me is not a happy me (I’m not going to waste away but I do get bloody grumpy).

And then it started raining.

And I had to go out and Janathon.

But then it stopped raining and Ginge very kindly offered to accompany me (I think it was as much as a precaution against me punching a passer-by as much as anything). I was going to do three miles, but at a mile and a half it started bucketing down. It would have been unfair of me to make Ginge endure this for another mile, so selflessly I cut it short at two miles.

I might make up the difference tomorrow…

In honour of my wearing of the grumpiest grumpy-pants, I thought I’d recycle my picture of this little fellow – the Grumpasaurus.

Grumpasaurus - that's me before a run that is. He was a pattern from Kat Crafts.