Tag: Running

Junearrrghthon

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I can’t believe it’s that time of year, but Juneathon is nearly upon us. Last year I adopted a pretty flexible approach and used it as a chance to try new stuff (an aerobics class, driving range, crown green bowling…), but this year I thought “Let’s do this properly. Run every day, even if it’s just 20minutes”.  I thought that, signed myself up via the medium of JogBlog and momentarily felt smug.

The smugness lasted til I mentioned my plan to husband, who kindly pointed out that we’re going on our jollies a week earlier this year so the final week of Juneathon will be spent in a tent in Kent. This may prove interesting.

In other news, I had a lovely run along the canal tonight – sun shining, little duckies swimming, magic horses standing on the bridge. Mind you, I did manage a bit of thickery by setting off with my sunglasses (again) and having to tuck them into my bra. Had I not tucked them into my bra  it might have prevented a  fly from making a crash landing in my eye. No lasting blindness, but I think the chap I ran past while winking madly might still be disturbed.

My first 10k race

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Well it had to happen one day… Way back in December, when I was full of the same giddiness that made me apply for a new job, I closed my eyes and posted off my entry to Run Liverpool for the Women’s 10k. I then spent 4 months trying to forget what I’d done, especially when my runs became increasingly sparce and even a month ago I doubted that I could do more than a few miles.

After a  few words of wisdom and encouragement, I had a boost of enthusiasm and when my race number finally arrived, I was strangely excited. I knew I wasn’t going to produce a world beating time, but had done my research looking at last year’s results and, in my heart of hearts, knew that I wasn’t going to come last. Having said that, even on the day I was still muttering darkly about the whole enterprise.

I think I heard that Liverpool is the second biggest women’s only event and it’s certainly one of the longest running (25 years in 2011), however  there’s been some debate over the future value of women only events, especially with the massive growth of the Race for Life events. Can a women’s only race survive whilst attracting elite runners and still being completely inclusive? Some of the pink girliness leaves me a bit cold (but then I’m a miserable bugger) – especially when I rummaged in my goodie bag to find it full of Ladies Things (fabric softener, sweeteners, teabags and, ahem, feminine hygiene products – well that’s my life as a woman summed up in 4 freebies). And despite all the reminders to go at our own pace and enjoy it, I found it a bit disconcerting to run past people walking before the 1k marker.  Although I’d not specifically chosen this race because it was a women’s event, I do think the absence of wiry men in tiny shorts helped my nerves on the day and it was pretty ace to see over a thousand women of all different shapes, sizes, ages and abilities all running together.

In the end, I didn’t finish last (hurrah!) and had a time of 1.06.07 – I’d have been content with 1hr 10min, so I was more than chuffed with this! The only problem is now I’d quite like to get my time down to under an hour and I’m disturbing myself with my conviction that I can actually do this.

T-shirt and medal

Liverpool Women's 10k - proof!

Brave…

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But not that brave.

It appears that I used up all of my bravery visiting my new team before I change jobs in 2 and a bit weeks (eek!)  and as a result, I didn’t have enough to spare for going to club night on my own.

To make amends, I went out before work today and it was a gorgeous morning. Sun rising, not too warm, no bear-paw hands and appropriate clothing choice. I also felt as if I was running strongly, unfortunately it turns out that I was running slowly. Oh well.

Ongoing positivity/running your own race

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Following on from the wise words given to me on Tuesday, I hauled myself out on Friday evening. The original plan was 30 minutes out, 30 minutes back (the theory being, if I can do that, I can do 10k). As I set off, I thought I might do 20 minutes  each way but as I got to 20 minutes, I thought I might do 25 minutes. As I got to 25 minutes, I thought I might as well go up to 30. So I did.

This ended up as 5.41 miles, with an average pace of 11.06min/mile. Now bearing in mind that’s the pretty much the same pace that I did 4.2 miles on Tuesday and 2.7 miles the week before and I have to say hmmmm. Maybe I’ve been underestimating myself a bit.

Yesterday taught me why I should set off early when it’s sunny, or at least take water so I avoid bear-paw hands. By the time I left the house it was 9.45 and the sun was well and truly shining, which was lovely until the 3rd mile. Having said that, it didn’t put me off doing a route that I’d chosen out of a dangerous combination of bravado and curiosity. The last time I did this route was July last year, when I was going out regularly and gradually increasing my mileage each weekend. It was also pre-birthday Garmin, so I only had a vague idea of how far it was. So today I thought I might as well try it, as no matter what happened at least I’d know how far it actually is.

The route takes you through the next village, down a lovely big hill (just about 3 miles from home), up a slightly smaller hill into the next village, down by Tesco and then throws in some gradually wearing hills to get home. Turns out it’s 7.5 miles exactly. Could I run 7.5 miles exactly? No. I mainly ran (with about 2 minutes walking spread about at the top of hills) for 1 hour 13 minutes, which covered 6.22 miles. The remaining 1.28 miles was mainly walking interspersed with increasingly pitiful running.

It’s a lovely route, I’m just not quite ready for it (which is hardly surprising given my lack of recent effort) however I suspect that with a couple of weeks going out regularly, I could tackle it much more successfully.

The second half of the title is something that I’ve been dwelling on a lot this week. I’m aware that my times and distances would not have many people quaking in their trainers, but they’re my times and distances and I’m sometimes quite proud of them as I’ve had a lifetime of not just not running, but actively avoiding running. I’m also aware that I tend to talk about my running with a bit of a negative spin and I’m a bit bored of doing that (although even now I’m fighting the urge to put inverted commas around the word running). After a while, you start to believe your own hype (even if you’re only joking) and that chips away at your confidence.

Similarly, when someone else tells you about their achievements, it’s often tempting to compare yourself negatively with that. This might just be me, but I think that this is maybe a bit of a female thing. Competitive arse-sizing would be one example (“My bum looks huge in these trousers” “Don’t be daft, if anyone should be complaining it’s me. Mine’s as a big as a bus”. I paraphrase hugely and never should apply for a scriptwriters job producing gritty and realistic dialogue), but it’s the same with running, “A 10k/half/marathon? I could never do that, I’m far too slow/fat/unfit”.  Maybe it’s out of an unconscious desire for the other person to say something positive in return, maybe it’s unspoken jealousy of the other person, maybe it makes us look at our own failings (real or imagined). I don’t know, but it’s annoying me because I do it a lot and I don’t want to any more. I want to run my own race.

Ducks, hens, bunnies

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I’ve been holding off posting until I could post somthing positive. Positive and about running.

Following my last entry, I was bouncing with enthusiasm for a nice long(ish) Sunday run on one of my favourite routes along the canal – I was chilled about speed, distance, time, whatever, even taking my camera with me so that I could stop to smell the flowers and snap the sheep in the fields. I set off. I managed a quite literally staggering 2 minutes 45 seconds and couldn’t go any further – my arms and legs felt heavy and it was like running through treacle. I felt absolutely exhausted, but wasn’t going to give in. Ended up with a total of 2.55miles plodding and plod/walking, oh, and a lovely picture of some sleepy ducks.

Sleepy ducks

Sleepy ducks

This was followed by another 30minute morning run on Monday, which was still slow, but this time my hands didn’t swell up like bear paws so I called it a success. Unfortunately, this was followed by a week where I felt totally whacked and reminded me of glandular fever.

Clearly, these are not the positive things that I promised in the first sentence.

I have also been knitting for Easter, creating an army of fuzzy chicks and a pair of egg cosies from a pattern by the awesome Little Cotton Rabbits.

Bunnies

Bunnies

Hens

Hens

It doesn’t take a genius to workout that I more naturally inclined towards knitting (with its sitting down in the warm) than running (with its moving around outside).

However positive that it is, it’s not positive and about running (as promised in the first sentence).

I had 2 lovely runs on Good Friday and Saturday, followed by a Tuesday night club run. I’ll admit that I’ve been avoiding these a bit recently as the gulf between the plodders at the back (me) and the speedy gonzales at the front (everyone else) seemed to be getting wider and wider. Last night, I was lucky enough to run with one of the coaches who, as well as being the most scarily positive person in the world ever, gave me lots of advice and encouragement. As well as getting me round 4.23miles (the longest I’ve run in over a month), I averaged 11.07 minutes/mile. I know that these stats aren’t exactly world beating, but at the weekend I was chuffed enough with  2.7 miles at 11.06 minutes/mile and I now realise that I could either be going further or faster.

Suddenly, the glass feels half full and I can feel a bit of confidence creeping back. It’s a rather nice feeling.