The Portsmouth Santa Fun Run

Wow, what a truly amazing, brilliant day.

It's not often that I set an alarm on a Sunday morning for 7am so that I can travel just over 20 miles in a Santa outfit to run 10k or 6.4 miles in old money.  But this Sunday was the Portsmouth Santa Fun Run, and it certainly lived up to it's name. It was just what the Dr ordered.

It was only about three weeks ago that I made the decision to sign-up and do the Santa Fun run being cajoled and encouraged by my new running chums Clare Horan and Jenny Jones and I'm really chuffed that they did.

After a horrible five weeks including a break up, some stressful work bollocks and a hideous cold (have I mentioned before I never get sick!  I promise I will stop whining about being poorly soon) running has been a great help.  Surprising I know, but being outdoors, pushing myself, meeting up with friends and getting those endorphins flowing through my veins is like a tonic and a healthy one at that. And so the Santa Run appeared to be an excellent idea.

I haven't done a big run since the Great South Run which is 10 miles, which wiped me out for a couple of weeks, followed by all of the above, my furthest distance in all that time has been 5k and probably only about four times.  Eek, my training has been quite low on the agenda and I was unsure of whether I'd actually be able to do it.

Sunshiny Day
So Sunday started with the most beautiful sunshiny morning, not a cloud in the sky, no harsh wind and even feeling pretty warm, which is great for running, not so great in a running outfit hidden by a Santa outfit.  It all gets pretty sweaty, pretty quickly.

Awash with Santa's
Arrival in Portsmouth saw the hurried dressing up as Santa with the obligatory bright red Christmassy lipstick for the ladies, it is Christmas after all and you've got to get a bit of glamour into running if you possibly can.  There was a posse of 10 of us, some running 5k and some running 10k and I must admit to feeling a teensy bit jealous that I hadn't put my name down for the 5k. In our posse was Clare Horan, Jenny Jones, Catherine Alpin, Barbara Boshier, Emma O'Brian, Linda, Mike and Evelyn (?) and Orelio who wasn't running as he was feeling pants. And we all cut a very fine Santa figure.

At the start line there were Samba drums which are amazing at getting you jeed up, warmed up and buzzing with excitement and the sea front was awash with Santa's.  I think there may have been about 1,500 Santa's down at the sea front, and it was fabulous to see.

And then we were off, up the promenade with the sea on our right and an enormous snake of red far off into the distance, snaking their way eventually back down the shingle beach (that was tough!) and back onto the promenade to continue the journey along the sea front.

Running ain't so difficult with support from friends
And it was tough, and it felt like a bloody long way, my legs felt heavy around the 7k mark, I was coughing but there was no effing way I was going to give in and walk.  I have to give a big thank you to Clare Horan, Jenny Jones, Linda and Evelyn for all their support on this run. It was tough for lots of reasons but also bloody brilliant fun.

And now I'm home, bathed, warm, a glass of red and smiling on the inside.

So if you're toying with the idea of starting to run, at the very least aim to do the Portsmouth Santa Fun Run for the RNLI, it's a great day you won't forget in a hurry.

Here's a Merry Christmas to all, have a wonderful time with your friends and loved ones.

xxxx

So I should make lemonade . . .

Running, running, running, still I keep running and still I keep at a similar speed. Sometimes I feel like a lumbering oaf, heaving myself around a park or suburbia, running and for what purpose. OK I know the answer to this one, to get better, faster, fitter, happier, run for longer, have more energy and prove to myself that I can do pretty much anything that I set my mind to, I remember now, there are a lot of good reasons why I run.

So being the ungrateful recipient of a cold, as someone who is rarely, if ever sick, or even remotely poorly it comes as a bit of shock to have to carry around tissues and blow my nose, and sniff and breath with my mouth open like a panting dog in the heat of Summer.

With a sore throat, laboured breathing, still .... I went running.  A new parkrun venue in Netley was the lucky recipient of my laboured run last Saturday. But what a lovely place to run, by the sea, through a bit of the woods and three short laps. The wonderful Arelio from Lordshill Road Runners ran with me, all the way round. Arelio is an experienced runner, 72 marathons under his belt, and he has the kindness and motivation to support and motivate those of us to do well and I am eternally grateful. I didn't get a personal best this week and I am a little disappointed but with a stinking cold a sort throat and running on a cold Winters day I was still out there and running rather than lying there in bed, feeling sorry for myself.

The Diet
In the effort to increase speed I'm guessing I should check out my diet, finding the best foods to aid recovery and provide much required energy to fuel the legs to go further for longer. Although I wish that a hot, pepperoni pizza would do all of the above, sadly I think I'll be disappointed. The Christmas holidays will give me the time and opportunity to get stuck into my collection of running magazines work out what to stock my cupboards with, cook and freeze stuff, all to make life a little easier and increase my speed just a little.

The Garmin Watch
An amazing watch which should, for all intents and purposes be my running saviour, getting that pace a little faster, a few more seconds off my times. And still the watch currently resides in its box, on a shelf, unused and unloved.  I have yet to read the instructions and yet to sort out my laptop as it seems as reluctant to pair with my garmin as I do. A gift somewhat tainted. And so it will sit, until I dig out the Silvo and polish the tarnish off once and for all, read those instructions and really start working towards that elusive PB.

Man Flu
'The Cold' turned into 'Man Flu' and the last week saw me mostly asleep, about 12 - 16 hours for the first three days and waking up in a pool of my own sweat, wishing that my Mum lived close by and could bring me some chicken soup and tlc.  Instead my new best friends now were the sofa, my bed, my hot water bottle and lemsip. But all good things come to an end, that and impending insanity being confined to the house saw me back at work on Friday and out at the works party on Friday night. And as I like to plan in advance I'd already passed up the opportunity to run at parkrun on Saturday morning and marshalled instead.  I was quite pleased with my decision, feeling slightly jaded, wishing the other runners well, feeling pleased for once that it wasn't me.

Santa Hats
Tomorrow is the Santa run in Portsmouth, a whole 10k and I'm feeling a little jaded and without my usual run buzz, but I'm sure the addition of a Santa hat will make all the difference, and if life gives you lemons, you know what to do.

And so the brass monkeys roam

And so December starts even colder than some hearts but still the desire to run is running hot in my veins.

As I ventured back to the running club on a Monday night, it proved to be an experience where I wished I had a love of carrots more extreme than Bugs Bunny.  My first Monday night in months was a little darker, wetter and colder than the last time.  With the onset of Winter, dark evenings, high vis jackets and even more attractive high vis gloves you could have mistaken me for an uncool raver, sans glowstick and thumping music.

Surprisingly to all you non runners it was bloody lovely.  A whole bunch of runners sporting head torches (except for me) running around the common in the pursuit of fitness, a new personal best, stress relief and without any nervousness at all of being in the deepest darkest woods of Southampton Common.

This time of year the lure of the sofa and a warm red wine is extremely strong, especially when it feels like every breath will create a mini runway of frozen breath straight from your mouth.  Luckily I visualise the feeling after a run is far more desirable than the regret of not going.  I keep seeing a quote on Pinterest, along the lines of, 'it doesn't matter how fast you go, you are lapping everyone on the sofa', and so I remind myself of this every time the sofa is whispering my name.

The mental battle began again in earnest on Saturday morning when the temperature gauges were showing below 0 and the duvet was showing 'toasty'.  I considered my choices, stay in bed, drink tea, have a leisurely morning, or; get up, go to parkrun, get the endorphins going and feel rather chuffed with myself. Parkrun won. And it was brass monkeys cold, but I caught up with some runners that I haven't seen for a while and it's great friendly warm community, which overruled the 'toasty' duvet feeling.

Whether it was the freezing cold, or the considerable weight loss I've experienced these last few weeks, or sheer bloody mindedness, I don't know but I got a new personal best, an improvement of 39 seconds.  To anyone who doesn't run this might not sound like much, but seeing that figure certainly provides a mile wide grin across the face.

As my love affair with running grows I've now signed up for:

• The Santa Fun Run for the RNLI on 16th December - so I will now need to find a Santa outfit.
• The Stubbington 10k in January
• And Thunder Run in July which I don't know much about, except it's through the night

But for right now, the heating is on, I have fresh coffee and some warm mince pies and the monkeys are on their own.

Running through the pain barrier. . .

And so it is nearly three weeks since I ran the Great South Run and it's been a tough three weeks.  The public display of 'cold sores' gone, some energy back.  The day job still extraordinarily busy, so running has taken the proverbial back seat, until last week, well . . .

Saturday morning parkrun
Last Saturday was to be my first tentative steps back into running with a gentle parkrun but an unwelcome surprise gift on Friday night curtailed that. The words 'we need to talk' doesn't require any unwrapping of that present to know what was inside.

Running has become a big part of my life over the last six months and although I'm far from being gazelle like, I kinda love it? And now I was going to be needing a little more love from my trainers and the open road.  The endorphins and challenge to beat my last personal best a whole lot more enticing than wallowing and crying into a glass of wine.

My evenings this week have been jam packed with Business Mentoring, hypnotherapy case study clients, prep for aforementioned clients, dinner with friends etc.  Friday rocks up and I relax into an evening of complete relaxation and herbal tea and chicken soup and TV.  All preparation for my first park run in a long, long time.

Saturday morning
This morning I was ready for running, raring to go and did my first parkrun for about 3 months. So even though eating this last week has been like pushing a marshmallow into a money box, with a dash of heartbreak sprinkled on top, I still ran it. It felt tough but I ran it and I didn't stop.

I didn't get a personal best this week but maybe I should cut myself some slack, keep on running, and keep those endorphins flowing.


Future races
As Winter has quickly claimed the evenings I didn't want to succumb to the lure of the sofa and a rich bodied  red wine, instead of wrapping up for running and so I entered the Stubbington 10k in January.  Eek, proper cold running weather, in just a few months time.  So bugger it, lets book some more races.

Perhaps not gazelle like just yet, but running, high on endorphins, still smiling and pain free . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS-zK1S5Dws .  And this tune is very apt.

Run Down . . . but not out . . .

Life after the Great South Run hasn't been great.  I was expecting endless euphoria for at least a week. Surely such a milestone deserves to be dishing out the endorphins for five days?

Nope. My body was much more intent on shouting in no uncertain terms for F*** S***, slow down.  After the initial exhaustion after the GSR last Sunday it was back to the day job on Monday.  The day job has been providing plenty of its own stress recently working weekends and evenings.  Don't get me wrong, no one would die or be tortured as a result of deadlines not being met, but it's just my work ethic to get things done. Add in planning my hypnosis sessions for my case study clients and then seeing clients, soon eats into your time. Then add in all the running training for the big event.  Something had to give. Unfortunately my Hypnotherapy homework had to take a back seat. So not cracking on with my homework was another little stress playing at the back of my mind.  And with time so poor, cooking and healthy eating took a knock as well.  And so there it was, my body had frankly had enough.

Body on Strike
Monday I was still tired and then I started to notice the tell tale itchy tinglyness of the arrival of the dreaded herpes simplex virus exploding. Luckily (well I see it as luckily) I get them in my nose, and around the base of my nose.  I think I caught them many, many years ago when I was learning to scuba dive.  I didn't have my own mask so had to borrow one from the school and I think that's when I was in receipt of an unwanted gift.  Anyway, this was the worst outbreak I've had for many, many years and as well as feeling like I'd been punched in the nose, also continued to feel exhausted and like I had a hangover but without the party.  Usually a couple of early nights sorts me out. But this was going to take longer.  Going to bed as early as 9.30, never later than 10 all week, was still leaving me feeling a wreck. Friday was the first day that I started to feel better and I've continued to improve.  The wonderful cold sores are now past their worst and my nose looks like a pestiferous scabby mess, but the pain in gone and another early night and I'll be right as rain.

So I could blame feeling so awful just on the Great South Run but I really have to take some responsibility for myself here as well as otherwise I would have to hang up my trainers and resort to a previous version of my life.  A version of my life that I'm not ready to go back to.

I'm giving myself a couple of weeks off running but starting with a gentle parkrun on a Saturday morning to get me back into it slowly.

This week of my body shouting at me made me realise that although I've made some profound changes in the last year, there is still a lot to do, to achieve that 'in control' 'fit person' that I aspire to be.

The Camera Never Lies
I've just discovered the photos from the GSR of me, running the route at various stages.  And the experience has left me feeling a little despondent.  You see the camera never lies and there was the evidence for all to see, my love of food and red wine and over indulgence.  And the old negative feelings come flooding back. That vitriolic arsehole sat in my mind that whispers cruel things to me starts to whisper again. Fortunately I know better than to let that voice chat for too long and that too will be kicked into touch very soon.

The Great South Run 2013
My aim for the GSR in 2013 is to knock at least 30 minutes off my time.  To be much lighter on my feet, much fitter and smiling when I see the photos.

Until then . . . I best get shopping for some Winter running gear.

The Great South Run

Losing my Great South Run Virginity
The night before felt a bit like getting prepared for a holiday; passport - check, money - check except this Saturday night was a bit more; number badge thing - check, safety pins - check, warm dry clothes - check, plastic cups - check, Doritos - check. Eventually I was happy that my morning would go without a hitch.  Trainers at the door, running clothes laid out, alarm set and bag packed. And so off to bed I went.

The Morning Arrived
So kit on, bag on shoulder and out the door to the train station.  There were a few Great South Runners at the train station.  They're pretty easy to spot. You don't see many people doing the walk of shame in trainers and running kit at 8.30am on a cold and damp Sunday morning.  I hooked up with my running buddy and friends for the slowest train journey on planet earth.  All very helpful to aid a growing feeling of nervousness.

A Long Walk
 So Portsmouth and Southsea train station ain't so close to the sea, or the starting line. And, so, before we'd even started running we had a 20 - 30 minute walk. I don't like being late. Being late stresses me out and makes me anxious.  My hypnotherapy, running geek, tutor was going to run with me. He's completed umpteen marathons and is going to be doing ultra marathons?! Anyway he was going to run with my and my running buddy, keeping me mentally on track right up to that finishing line.  So text messages, and phone calls on the long walk and we'd arranged a meeting spot.

Arriving at the Great South Run
We had to sort out our number things to safety pin on our tops.  I wanted to get rid of that pint of tea that was sitting in my bladder and hook up with my hypno tutor.  It was about 10.30 by now and finding anyone was going to be like finding your car at Glastonbury Festival wearing a blindfold.  I went to find a loo, find my hypno tutor and get ready to rumble . . . I mean run.

All is Lost
And so, keeping an eye out me for my running buddy, I turned and managed to lose her. Bugger.  And I couldn't find my hypno tutor.  The que for the loos was worse than Glastonbury.  And I was lost in a sea of people with a bladder full of tea about to run the furthest I've ever run in my life.  And it has to be said, I felt a little anxious and not quite so excited as I had been.

The Race Starts
An invigorating warm up, not sooo easy to do when you are packed liked sardines next to each other all eager to get going. To get too involved with the warming up routine could have risked poking someones eye out or picking someones nose. And I was still anxious and still looking for my running chums before I had to admit defeat and realise that now the chances were pretty slim.

The crowd moves forward and before I knew it, I am crossing the start line and being cheered on by crowds of people I've never met, kids holding out their hands so you can clap them on the way past and it's a little intimidating. Being watched by all those people, sometimes shouting your name (it's on your t-shirt) by people you've never met. And there shortly after the start was an oasis.  A toilet.  I made a split second decision to use it. The last thing I wanted to do was be thinking about needing a pee for 10 miles. So I ran in, queued for a while, peed, and ran out.  And now my run really started.

10 Miles - Alone but not Alone
And so I had to get into my run zone, to focus, to relax into it, along a route I'd never done before. And I did.  I went at my own pace and just kept on going, and going, and going.  The three mile marker seemed an awful lot longer than the three miles I usually ran but I guess Bupa know what they're doing when they put the markers up.  The miles started clocking up though and then I was at five miles.  This seemed way more difficult than all my other long runs. Then came six/seven miles. And you move away from the sea front, into the houses, straining to see around the next corner, hoping to see the start of the promenade, the start of the finish. At this point there are lots of walkers, lots of people walking and running, walking and running.

I couldn't walk.  If I walked I wouldn't be able to run again. And so I continued to run, one foot at a time.  A couple of times I nearly burst into tears as I ran.  More tears of surprise at what I was doing and what I was achieving. I had to keep the crying at bay as I would surely sob the rest of the way round, and that wouldn't be pretty. Sobbing and sweaty!

The last couple of miles hurt.  I felt as though shards of glass had taken up residence in my hip joints and I felt as though I'd had my legs replaced with those of a seven foot rugby player.

And there I was on the promenade.

Counting down now.  Nine miles under the belt. 1km to go, 800 metres to go. Then 400 metres.  The whole time just knowing that the only way I would stop is if my bones broke and my muscles ripped apart.

200 metres, then 100 metres.  Amazingly my other half had spotted my coming up to the finish line and shouted.  Seeing him waving, shouting me on, was the last push that I needed.  In I went, under the finish line. I stopped, the marshals pulled off my chip and I was done, I'd finished, I'd run 10 miles. I'd done it 2:17:31. All this training and I had done it. And I just about managed not to sob.

I'd Done It
And so the rest of the day was spent in exhaustion.  A long walk back to the station.  A long train journey home, celebrated with Cava in plastic cups and Doritos.

And so now I am recovering, a little like a new born foal if I keep still for too long, but proud as punch and a little amazed and surprised.

So with a new achievement under my belt, it's onwards and upwards to my next racing challenge, to get fitter, stronger and faster than ever.

Big thanks to Adam Eason my Hypnotherapy Tutor for his inspiring wit and inspiration, to Gemma for being my running buddy and keeping me sane and running, to my other half Andy who's supported and encouraged me throughout and my friends, family and everyone whose enjoyed the blog.

And so now I'll rest, but not for long. I've got the bug and a new running challenge to find.

Seven More Sleeps Until the Great South Run

I will have a smile as wide as the moon.  As in a week I will have completed the Great South Run.  I'll have trained hard enough for the last five and half months so that I can run for 10 miles without stopping, I hope.

Another Milestone in Training

Last Saturday was yet another milestone in my Great South Training.  Me and my esteemed running partner had our 14k run planned for Saturday morning.  We figured we'd do pretty well as we'd done 12.59k just a couple of weeks before so 14k would be a piece of cake.

The preceding weeks have been exceedingly stressful so Friday night, I eventually sat down and relaxed without mapping the extra for our route. So I figured we'd wing it. We were meeting at 8.30am and so after a restless nights sleep I got up dragged on my running gear, necked a cup of tea, and got my ass over to meet my running partner.

We had a rough idea of distances from previous routes we'd run and decided to add on a section we'd run before but do it in reverse. We started with the 'in town' run, the traffic, the scenery not so nice, heading passed the hospital and into the woods around the golf course.  Both of us doing well.  Gem's trainer squeaking as she ran in front of me (now there's an incentive to run faster).

Lost in the Woods
Going into the woods from the other direction provided it's own challenges, like, navigation.  Clearly being girls we were missing this crucial part of that bit of kit in our fluffy pink minds. So we scrambled up and down hills, through vast swathes of mud, until eventually we found our way back to the edge of the golf course and civilisation.

Golf Course Road
Anyone who knows Southampton might well know, Golf Course Road. Nothing particularly special about it.  It does of course take you to . . . yes, you've guessed it. The Golf Course. It's a plain road, houses back onto it on one side, it's got road bumps in it, it's not big enough for two cars.  But.  It's bloody steep.  Our last push before pretty much downhill all the way home.  And so, a bit tired, I was still not going to let a little steep hill get in the way of my progress. And so we pushed, we swung our arms, we panted and we got there. We'd made it, now we just had the easy bit home.

Last Stretch Home
We ran, we visualised the crowds cheering us on either side, we visualised the finish line. I imagined oxygen flowing easily into my muscles, making the last stretch easier.  And so we got back to where we started.  Big high five, another EPIC run and we'd made it back safe and sound, despite getting lost and being covered in mud.

Wow, We'd Run Further
A few cups of tea and a shower later I checked out our route on Map My Run.  I mapped, as best I could, well, we did get lost in the woods.  Until the route joined up from where we started.  And I was quite surprised.  We'd run 14.42k, which is near as dammit 9 miles.  Bloody hell, my feet, my legs, my lungs, my mind had carried me that far.  Without wheels, without a car beneath my arse.  And I was OK, I wasn't writhing on the floor in pain, or laid out on the bed with exhaustion.  I was OK. And so yet again I'd surprised myself and what my body and head could achieve.  And if I could do that, then the Great South was going to be a piece of cake!

Apocalyptic Storm Stops Run
We had planned a run on Wednesday, maybe five or six miles.  But weather stopped play.  The rain was coming down in sheets, rather than drops, the sky looked liked it would murder anyone who dared look at it, and the lightning was fabulous.  Unfortunately this resulted in rather a lot of flooding on the roads and paths. We made a joint decision to give it a miss.  The last thing I wanted was to fall over whilst running through a deep puddle and get an injury so close to the race.  There would be a few expletives flying around if I'd got an injury.

So the last long Run
Today I ran 10k, on my own.  My last long run before The Great South Run. I get moments of extreme nervousness but mostly I feel excited and am really looking forward to next Sunday and seeing my smile as wide as the moon.

So if you'd like to sponsor me, I'm running for Mind, you can at www.justgiving.com/Claire-Lincoln, Mind would really appreciate it.