Cancer Research UK Tough 10, Box Hill

I was looking for some trail races a while ago. I like running. I love natural environments so it feels like a natural progression for me to take my running from the city to the trails.

For me personally there’s only so much city running you can do and feel inspired. There’s also the niggles you have to take into account like traffic lights, pedestrians that are waking, cars, bin bags, lamp posts… it’s a concrete jungle that leaves me feeling lack lustre at times.

To me my relationship with running feels like I would like it to progress as a way to get in nature, a method by which to explore the world and an experience that makes me feel very alive. Sometimes pollution fumes and sirens don’t quite do that for me. So I looked for some trail races and found the Tough 10 series by CRUK.

They rate the difficulty of their races by the number of trainers, 1-3. This race took part on Box Hill And was rated three trainers tough. Box Hill is known by cyclists and was one of the steepest ascents in the 2012 Olympic cycling events. The steepness of the ascent is quite brutal.

On the first ascent we climbed the steps by the stepping-stones. 270 stairs but not equal stairs, these are slippy woodland stairs which tend to be much more of a step than your average stairwell. I walked up and felt every breath and tiny oxygen atom mattered. Once at the top there were some flatter stretches, some down hill and a few more uphill.

I really enjoyed the variation of the terrain. I loved the views even though I’ve been and seen them before – there’s nothing more rewarding for climbing something than taking a breather to look around and admire the views you earned from the climb. The ground was quite slippy and I didn’t lose my footing.

I rolled my ankle once and didn’t go over or injure myself thanks, I think, to the ankle wiggling exercises I do before a run. Running on the slope down hill felt amazing when it was a gentle gradient. I felt like I could relax and my legs just carried me along. I felt so free and alive just running through the woodland. My legs just carried me and I breathed easy.

I honestly feel like I’m starting to get the going for a run to relax and unwind thing. It’s not always super hard work anymore – and it now is very enjoyable. I’m definitely going to be hitting up some more trails – it wasn’t as hard for me mentally as I expected it to be.

This race was 10k and I feel like I’m finally comfortable with than distance so now it feels like the right time to started increasing my distance up to 15/20km. Bring it!

I went to Kobox yesterday and although that was a 50 minute class it felt much harder mentally to stay in the class and push through despite being less time – I think this was because we did exercises by the wall as well as punching the bag and the exercises were weighted so I struggled quite a lot with them. Whereas I’ve been running more consistently for a few months now so my body is quite used to t by comparison to weighted squats, trunk twists and mountain climbers.

I mean I already established last week that my core isn’t strong enough and that I’ve lost some of the core strength I did have – and this class confirmed my thoughts further.

So here’s to getting my mojo back. Here’s to trail running being bloody fabulous. Here’s to increasing the distance and getting stronger in order to do this.

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When Running, Motivation and Mental Illness Collide

When motivation and mental illness become intertwined and this makes it difficult to stick to any form of plan. Getting dressed can be difficult to organise in my head when I’m like this, so balancing study, running, fitness, friends, groups I like to go to and volunteering is just a dream again. I know I can, and that I will again but right now this can’t be my currently reality. I need to learn to navigate these times as best as I can, and I think that’s a long journey ahead of me.

The past few weeks have been quite scatty. I’m not sure quite what is going on, or why things have gone so awry again. They have, and that’s something I need to take in my stride as best as I can. That doesn’t mean I will always keep my strides even and steady during these times – in fact, far from it. I may jolt forward and fast in my moments of being able to organise in my head and utilise my motivation to meet my goals, then trudge slowly in an aching manner as everything I intended to do to make me feel better slips away. Time doesn’t stop for anyone and right now I could do with time stopping for me to, I don’t know, figure out what’s sending me stray and to get myself back on track.


I’m swaying quite quickly right now between able and unable, motivated and unmotivated, being able to hear my thoughts and it being just a chaos of mish-mashed noises, being able to organise myself and feeling at a loose end, thinking ahead and being stuck in trying to think at all. I’ll be honest, I fucking hate this.

It does add more fuel to my fire in that when I am able to get myself out running and climbing, or going to the gym – it propels my need to do this stuff to feel good and maintain feeling well about myself.

I don’t even know what else to say; my head is mush.

 

Marshalling Run Wimbledon 2017

At the weekend I did something completely new. I did something that brought me joy, another something that I came across as a result of my running journey. I entering the world of being a race marshal for the first time.


I marshalled for Run Wimbledon, by Perseverance Events. This is a tough course of undulating, i.e. very hilly, difficult and sometimes loose ground. I ran a 10k loop here in 2015 at the Summer Breeze Running Festival, to date this remains the hardest race I’ve done because of the heat paired with the course. It was a looped course, with one lap for the 10k, 2 laps for the half marathon and 4 laps for the full marathon – read, those guys are batshit bonkers!

My job was to direct people in the right direction on a sharp turn, up the hill and onwards with the course whilst handing out sweets and cheering the runners on. On that day I considered myself Captain Morale Wimbledon. I had great fun cheering people on, dare I say possibly more fun than some of the runners seemed to be having as they edged to the foot of ‘that bloody hill’. This was especially relevant towards the end of the day for the half marathoners and the marathoners.


Having run a few races, I know how welcome a well timed cheer or music zone can be, I know how welcome a snippet of conversation and encouragement can boost a mindset of dwindling positivity. Hearing someone tell you that you can do it when your mind is telling you that you can’t, someone cheer and pass on some infectious smiles of good will to a grimacing face, or someone to just clap your efforts around a course can really help garner extra energy from god knows where, and sometimes it’s enough just to get you up that sodding hill a bit easier than you would have otherwise.

I felt like it was time to give something back to the running community considering how much I have gained over the years. So many times have strangers, friends and family cheered me on and congratulated me on my achievements – now it was my turn to believe in someone. I doubt I will ever be able to give as much as I have received – but to give back something is better than nothing.

The thing about seeing people push themselves on a difficult course is that it can make you want to get out there and do it yourself. You get race envy. I often get race envy when I see an event that I think I would have enjoyed.  On Saturday, there were times during the day when I was inspired to get out there and run. There were also times when I was put off it for the day when I saw how worn down many people got by the course. From this, I think I’ll take that when I sign up for this run next year, I’m going to do a lot of training on undulating ground to get my body used to it. Road running isn’t going to cut the mustard with this beast of a course. This isn’t the kind of race you rock on up to without proper consistent effort going into your training. It isn’t the kind of race you rock on up to the start line of in the hope of winging it because those rolling inclines will get to you and they might destroy you for the day. They might not but I doubt it’s worth taking the risk.


I wasn’t sure if I would enjoy marshalling. In fact I was pretty anxious the night before and wishing I hadn’t agreed to it. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to project my voice loud enough for people to hear me. I wasn’t sure if I could be brave enough to talk and cheer on people I didn’t know on my own. Soon enough however, as with many things I have doubted of myself in my running world, I got into it, even as a relatively shy and awkward person, I got into it and received only positive reception for my cheering efforts which only encouraged me to crack out the shit jokes department of my personality.

To everyone who ran, a big well done to those who finished, those who didn’t finish and gave it a go, hats off! It’s a tough course on Wimbledon Common and I’m sorry for my shit jokes.

Running Through a Low Mood Swing

I’ve been quiet lately. I have been running, although not as much as I would have liked to. I haven’t been doing my conditioning as much as I would have liked to either. I said it. I’ve started to drag my feet, and it feels like, I’ve already started to drag my feet.

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The biggest hurdle for me with achieving my goals and training as much and hard as I would like to is my mental health. I have mood swings and I’m on a low swing – although a mild one. This means a number of things, but most importantly in relation to my training, this means that I’m quite unmotivated. It means I’m anxious about lacing up and going out of my front door because you never know, I may collapse and die from severe sudden onset dehydration. I could collapse from hyperventilating because I’m all of a sudden unfit. It’s a slight possibility that I could die if I lace up. You just never know.

I feel like all of these concerns flood me every time I consider going out. Then I also consider the potential heckles, the likelihood of my not meeting my expectations, or maybe the off chance I’m going to shit myself whilst running having not seen it coming at all. Just, out the blue, shit myself.

With all that in mind, it is absolutely no wonder that I am anxious about going out. I have a 0% rate of any of these things happening to me. I have a 100% success rate at finishing a run and feeling better than when I started out the door. Yet somehow, every, single, bloody time… there is a pit of dread in my stomach that is screaming at me to, no, don’t do this to me again, like a child throwing a tantrum about not getting that lego set they asked for in Tesco that costs £60 again. Nooooo! Don’t say no to me agaiinnnnnn!!!!! and all the kicks, screams and hollers that that entails in an average 2-5 year old, or spoilt any-year-old.

When I manage to subside the anxiety down with rationalisations, there’s the real lack of energy to motivate myself any further that sets in around about then too. This is a heavy weight amongst my limbs and body that makes me feel like moving is an impossible feat. I KNOW it’s not, but it FEELS like it is.

Living with mental health issues is annoying for getting in the way of my running goals and plans. The things is though, that I have a choice. I can let it win over me again. When I say again, I really mean again because so many times in my life does my mental illness batter and destroy me. The other choice is to embrace it and to use this as my chance to really really fight it. I can use this opportunity to put my brilliant personality trait of being a stubborn little shit into good use. So instead of being stubborn in being right about something, or not listening to someone, or refusing to do something I don’t want to do I’m going to throw a new idea out there for myself: I could be stubborn about doing something. That something being running the marathon. I’m not going to defer it. I’m making the whole hearted decision to be as stubborn as fuck about training and meeting my goals.

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I know everyone has days when they don’t want to. I know a lot of people manage to do anyway, even when they don’t want to. I want to be one of those people, regardless of my mental illness when it comes to running. At the moment, the longest length of time I’ll have to endure training and running for is 1 1/2 hours. I’ve sulked through longer time commitments, I’m quite sure I can make myself sulk through a run or training session. I’m a pro sulker, so why not expand my horizons of activities to do whilst sulking?

This is a particular challenge I face in training for a marathon. We are all going to have our own particular challenges, and instead of letting them loom over me and defeat me I’m going to do my damned hardest at knuckling through.

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One saying I’ve lived by since I was at school is that if I try my best, even if I fail, I’m not letting myself down. I can only try my best, and I can only fail knowing I tried my best. If I don’t try my best, I’m only letting myself down – and that’s a much more bitter pill to swallow. I can blame. I can wallow in self pity. I can also scowl, clench my teeth and give it a bloody good shot of what I’ve got.