I’ve been ill again this past week. The same symptoms that seem to rear their head after a few weeks of feeling well: scratchy throat, head aches, nausea, achy joints, head fog and just overall feeling rather shitty and shit about myself. I then have to take more time off running, lose the progress I’ve made AGAIN. It’s become a never ending circle, I get two weeks grace and then my immune system decides ‘NAH that’s enough for you.’
I had COVID at Christmas time and thought I’d recovered. I’d had what could be considered a mild case but it took a few weeks to get over. Then after my 18 mile trail run in April I was ill for a month, on steroids and antibiotics, struggled and had to really fight to get back into running again. I finally seemed to get over it but since then every few weeks viral symptoms flares up again and I’m floored.
I rack my brains as to why it’s been like this, is it burnout from my PhD, is it perimenopause, a run of back luck? Or is it Long COVID? My husband suggested this a couple of times and I’ve brushed it off, but could it be? The same symptoms every few weeks: head ache, sore throat, fatigue, occasional insomnia or if not insomnia, sleeping like the dead and waking feeling unrested. As long COVID cases go it might be at the mild end of the spectrum but it seems to fit the pattern.
This Sunday I was meant to run a 10k in Tenby so to see how I was feeling I went out for a jog. One mile in and I felt shattered, two miles in and I had to stop and walk. It felt horrible and I was hating every second of it. And what’s the point if it makes me feel like that? As I walked home I made a decision: no more running for now, at least not the way I want it to be. I had races this year that have been deferred due to the pandemic, including Snowdonia Marathon in October, a race I’d really been looking forward to. It would be foolish to think I could rush training for that race now, I’ve had no consistency in running since this time last year and I do not want to just ‘make it round’. I want to enjoy the races I do. I’d also risk serious injury again if I ramped up the miles at this point to be ready. For what? For ego? For social media likes? For the sake of running which at the end of the day is just a hobby?
Once I came to that realisation this morning, that running needs to be paused right now I started to cry. Frustration, shame, embarrassment, helplessness, sadness…..who knows. I walked over the railway bridge in the village feeling really shitty and pathetic, and then I saw my husband and my daughter in the little park. She saw me, smiled and laughed and ran towards me for a big hug which made me want to cry even more. It’s just fucking running isn’t it? It’s not the be all and end all of my life, and I learned a long time ago that running shouldn’t be used as an emotional crutch, that just leads to trouble. It all feels like it’s a bit forced and I need running to have less emphasis in my life for a bit, I want it to be fun and enjoyable again. Races will be there when I’m ready again. I don’t want to become resentful towards a sport that’s been part of my life since I was 11 years old. For now it’s more important that I’m healthy and well to do all the other things I’ve got going on in my life.
I’m very much wishing that I had this blog back up and running a few weeks ago so that I could have written this directly in the aftermath of this race. It was my first event for many years and I was bouncing with pride and elation on completing it. As a novice trail runner I was extremely proud of how I dealt with the kit carrying and navigation which was all new to me. Few mistakes which could be rectified for future trail races but every day is a running school day and as someone who is a believer in life long learning I never presume to know everything about the sport that I love.
As part of my Ultra Training (the ultra which is no more due to ill health) I had entered the 18 mile race for the 2022 edition of the Vale Coastal race organised by Run Walk Crawl (RWC) Events. I’ve known people to rave about this race, I’d heard it was well organised and time wise it was perfect. My long training run needed to be about 18 miles and it was along the same terrain that the VOGUM would follow so it seemed like a no brainer. I was feeling nervous but quietly excited as the previous week I had run/walked 14 miles of the coastal path and had a great experience, now was time to dip my running toes back into an actual real live event. My first since the pandemic, the PhD, since Isla, since I don’t know when. This running event was long overdue!
Organisation wise I couldn’t fault RWC: the emails were always informative and encouraging, the kit list was readily available, the maps were already marked out and you were given options of where to register and pick up your number, either the afternoon before the race or on the day. Encouragement and smiles were forthcoming from the guy handing out the numbers the day before, which were so welcome as I started to feel a bit jittery about the distance and it being my first proper trail event with kit.
The morning of the race I felt quite relaxed. I was a big fan of the 10.30am start so breakfast was a relaxed affair and I made sure to eat enough having made that mistake previously (London Marathon 2014 I felt hungry most of the way round, absolutely dire situation). I packed my kit with the gels and snacks that I had practiced with and made a mental plan of the timings for the gels. See, race fueling hasn’t all dropped out of my head!
The start was at Porthkerry Park in Barry, a beautiful place where the viaduct looms over you. I was grateful to see the toilets were open as the nervous bladder had kicked in and I was convinced if I didn’t go I’d need to submit to the dreaded wild wee. Comfort restored and I hung around with the other half until it was time to go. I bumped into my neighbour Gemma and fellow Running Punk Catrin and it was nice to see friendly faces, although my nerves had kicked in and I couldn’t bring myself to say very much (sorry girls I’m genuinely not that standoffish).
Runners who had started the 32 mile race in Penarth had already flown past and my head tried to comprehend how quickly they had made it through with another 18 miles to go. Something to aim for next year perhaps? The 18 mile race started and a running/jogging cloud started trundling from the pen towards the main path out West towards our destination. Within a few minutes I was kicking myself for starting at the back of the pen. All the runners bottle necked on a steep hill because there was a smallish gate at the top. We had to queue to make our way up so there was very little movement or running at this very initial stage of the run. If I came back I would definitely have more confidence to stand further forward, if only to avoid the queue situation. However it did give me a chance to talk to a runner who was training for a 100km race and was using this run as a training run. We exchanged niceties as runners do and then we separated as we got past the gate.
Once we were past the queue on the hill everything opened up and we could all stretch out. I was glad I kept my base layer on as the wind was strong despite the bright sunshine. The sunglasses probably made me look like a poser but at times the light was bright as the sun bounced off rocks and the sea so they were well justified. I started on my gels at around an hour in and then kept up the fuel intake every 35-40 minutes which seemed to work as a strategy. I made sure to walk the hills and chat to any runners around me, remembering all my countryside etiquette, keeping my litter, closing gates or holding them open if a fellow runner was just behind me.
The section from Porthkerry to Llantwit Major was pretty straight forward and I didn’t have to worry about getting lost as there were plenty of runners ahead that I could see or keep in contact with. The path by the energy station should be called Dogshit Alley, it was actually disgusting and I think some of the dogs must be the size of small ponies. Pick it up dog owners FFS. Fortunately no shitty trail shoes but honestly, that was my main take from that section.
The support station at Llantwit Major was approximately the half way mark for the 18 mile race. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so looked after in a race. The volunteers could not do enough. my empty bottles were immediately filled and returned to me before I could muster breath to ask for water. I was shown a buffet of running snack delicacies: bananas, organges, salty crisps and what looked to me to be the pick and mix from the sweets aisle in Tesco. RWC really outdid themselves here and I was able to set off again hydrated and well fuelled again.
Up the steps at Llantwit my legs were tired but I was now into territory that I had already experienced and I was mentally starting to pick off my own little checkpoints, helping me to tick off the miles and help me get closer to the finish: the rocky fossil beach that I made a mental note to take my kids to, the RNLI station with the swimming pool next door, the little foresty bit with the stone stile, the expansive green fields, the lighthouse, the ridiculous steep incline at Monknash that I thought would finish me off, more fields…..hang on Southerndown….that means Ogmore is a couple of miles away. I felt bouncy and happy and I even managed a couple of gurns for the photographer who seemed to appear out of no where.
This is where I got a bit over excited and started putting the pedal down a bit too hard not really thinking about what was ahead. I hadn’t gone past this point on my recce run so think I chose to ignore that lay before me. I started passing a couple of runners and then I remembered that to visit Dunraven Bay at Southerndown you have to drive down a very long, very steep hill to get down to the car park. Ogmore Beach, the finish line was somewhere beyond the top of that incline. I started looking over to the right to see if there were more gradual inclines, but no they were taking us straight up the hill. I felt it before I even hit it and I gave a half hearted attempt to maintain a jog and then laughed out loud and succumbed to the trudge. The 32 mile runners were also hitting this hill, what did I say about trying that next year?
I reached the top of the hill in the most beautiful sunshine, light was bouncing off the sea below and even though my legs felt shredded I started to give myself a little pat on the back that I had made it almost to the finish. There wasn’t really anywhere to go wrong at this point, just follow other runners in a straight line to the finish. Some people sprinted past me to the finish but I felt no need to hurry myself up, time was not my goal. For me it was the thrill of being able to say once again that I had completed a running event. It has been such a long time, after all the stress of last year with my injuries, having to DNS a number of races including Liverpool marathon (still gutted) and then the added setback of COVID at Christmas which affected my running into January. But despite all that I had really managed to complete 18 plus miles of beautiful but fairly unforgiving terrain. 18.5 miles (closer to 19 smdh) of beautiful trail running on the Wales coastal path complemented by the most wonderful volunteers and supporters and the company of my fellow runners. I couldn’t have asked for more and all being well I really hope I can do this race again next year, 18 or 32 miles, who knows? And if anyone else is tempted to venture into trail running as a novice then this is a great event to dip your toe into.
NB: I think I was meant to get my course map stamped at the checkpoints. I didn’t do that, didn’t realise you had to. No one asked to check at the end but next time I’ll make sure I get the CPs stamped. However if anyone at the end had tried to claim I hadn’t completed that race because of a lack of stamps I might not have been able to maintain my composure.
Injured but happy. Those words are total opposites in running. How on earth can being injured and being happy co-exist?
About a month ago training was going really well. I had a place in the Reading Half Marathon and I was really excited to get back into road races. All my runs had been going well. I had kept my long runs at a conservative pace without going mad. Shorter, faster runs were feeling more like my old self again and I was feeling quite chilled out about it all. And then one morning I got up and there was a sharp pain in my shin when I walked down stairs. That pain was also there a bit when I walked. After a couple of days rest and some stretching and foam rolling I went out for an 8 mile run. Not even half way in I turned back. There was a pressure in my leg that was building and wouldn’t ease off. I didn’t feel distraught but wasn’t feeling overly confident.
I left my decision right until the last minute as to whether to sack it off. The day before Reading I tried a jog. Every step on my left leg brought on a searing pain on the inside of my shin. The decision had been made. No half marathon for me.
I didn’t cry, I didn’t get overly frustrated. I didn’t come to my blog straight away to moan or blub about it as I might have done previously (Note: nothing wrong with that, just highlighting a change in me here). Instead I carried on about my business, took some ibruprofen and shrugged my shoulders. The only thing that bothered me about it was that I would be unable to take my beginners running group as effectively and I hated letting them down. But shit happens.
The difference in me compared to a few years ago when I was injured is this: running is no longer my emotional crutch. I am happy in other areas of my life and I think it is because I have decided to unapologetically be me. I stopped holding back on the person I wanted to be. I enrolled on my MSc. I have set up my own physio clinic. I went after a volunteer job to be physio for a national squad and I got it. I stopped hiding myself in running. Instead running is something that I do alongside everything else in life. I stopped looking inward, stopped thinking about luck and bad omens, stopped overthinking running and stopped paying attention to social media. Yes it sucks to be injured but I accepted it and moved on. I did what I could do about it and then got on with my life while waiting for my injury to heal.
Four weeks post injury and I managed a pain free run today. I don’t even think I’ve been particularly patient but it hasn’t felt like that long since I had to rest. After I ran I was of course happy but I think I would have felt like that anyway. It’s weird to feel that I am happy. I went for a long time feeling so anxious and stressed that I never thought I would feel like this. I have the excitement of the new clinic and the work with Cricket Wales and it’s a really good feeling. Hopefully the leg has settled and I will be able to run again on the weekend but I’m being mindful about it instead of overthinking it. Plus there are other things right now helping to fill the place in my head that I had expected running to fill for so long.
As Paulo Nutini, that great Scottish bard sang ‘I put some new shoes on and suddenly everything is right’. He wasn’t wrong.
Despite being a physio of fair experience, a physio who often reminds clients about the importance of changing your trainers at the appropriate intervals, I appeared to have dropped the bollock on that myself. And the only thing I can put it down to is not writing down all my training runs and totally underestimating how much running I had actually been doing.
Last year I replaced my Saucony with an identical Saucony. I was focussing on the London Triathlon so in my mind my training had mainly been cycling and swimming, my two weak points. Running when it happened didn’t seem to be as important in the training diary that I kept. It was all about water and wheels. After the triathlon my regimented diary keeping seemed to tail off and again in my head so had my running.
About a week ago I started to have severe pain in my left foot, right under the big toe. I could hardly put my foot to the floor. I mentioned it to my other half, and when I suggested I needed new trainers he laughed and said ‘Nah, you’ve only just got those’. I felt like that too (although I’m sure he’s trying to stop me shopping) but the foot pain was telling me something wasn’t right. I looked at the tread and they didn’t seem overly worn. I did the squish test and they still seemed fairly robust. I then put my hand inside the left shoe and found a huge dent that was the size of my big toe, not just a little put of wear but almost worn through the trainer. How the ‘eff had I missed that?
I then went back through my training diary again up until I had stopped recording runs. I scrolled through Strava and discovered a fair few runs that I had completely forgotten about. But I had managed to convince myself I wasn’t doing that much running, because many of the runs had been so short that I had taken them for granted perhaps? So note to self…..
ALL RUNS COUNT. ALL RUNS ARE WEAR ON YOUR TRAINERS KAT, WHETHER THEY ARE THREE MILES OF THIRTEEN MILES.
When I totted it all up I had about 300 miles on paper (good old pen and paper). That’s not including runs that have completely left my memory altogether. I must completely switch off for some of those runs and I really believe that. The Sauconys went in the bin and I found myself some neutral Asics at an outlet store (Macarthur Glen Asics store in Bridgend, what a discovery!). First couple of runs and all the weird aches and pains in my feet and calves have eased off. Funny that *head butts desk at own stupidity*
So the moral of the story? Keep your training diary up to date. It all counts. Slow, fast, long or short, those runs all contribute to improving you and wearing out your shoes. If I make a resolution to keep my diary and a note of the date I start running in new shoes I might avoid total shoe disaster next time. And in new shoes the Reading Half Marathon might actually be alright.
If you read one of my last posts (it has been a while, whoops) you might remember that a new running group had been set up locally to me. I had offered my help and had started to lead a run mid week as I couldn’t make the other group runs. Following on from that though, at the requet of quite a few people, I have found myself coaching total beginners. People who have never run in their lives now want to try it and I am in the priveleged, trusted position of helping them.
For the first few sessions as a running leader I felt tremendously nervous. I would panic over whether a session was too much or not enough. Had I taken in everyone’s individual needs but also addressed the needs of the whole group? Would people feel a bit achy afterwards and not come back? Would it all just die off?
I’m glad to say that five weeks down the line people are still coming to my beginners group and the enthusiasm is still strong within my group of runners. They have been coming in rain, hail, frost and bitter cold which has surprised and amazed me. If one or two can’t come they actually seem disappointed. Last night we did our first ‘interval session’ where I got them to run a bit faster than usual and everyone was smiling. Nobody was discouraged and nobody felt they had to drop out. As we did our walk/run back to our meeting place I got them to take turns in deciding where we would walk to and where we would run from. And while they were doing this I realised I loved volunteering to help this group of non-runners on their journey to become runners. I felt proud last night and I couldn’t stop telling them how they had impressed me and how well they were doing.
I wouldn’t insult a coach with qualifications by saying I’m a coach. I’m a Running Leader volunteering to help others and it’s made me love running more than I ever have before. To see these people develop and improve in front of my eyes is fantastic and I feel humbled that they trust me to help them do it. It’s a time when it’s not about my running, it’s about helping others run and discover a like or a love for running that they didn’t think possible. I don’t want money or favours or things for doing this, I already have a job. Volunteering and helping this beginners group is purely, without a doubt for the love of running.
I love running. I honestly really do. In my job I do my utmost to keep people running. I hate having to tell people they shouldn’t run but sometimes I have to for their own good and to enable any exercise therapy or treatment we do to be effective. Not everyone takes my advice and hey, sometimes people do get better with or without my advice. I can only go on what I find during an assessment and advise accordingly.
What I have found increasingly over the last few years is that with an increase in the running population has come an increased tendency for people to downright refuse to stop. They will continue to run even when there are a set of circumstances in front of them which are screaming at them to stop running, not permanently, just for a while.
I have had two cases in clinic recently where the best advice was certainly to stop running. But neither runner really accepted this. the compulsion to run was so strong that these runners were prepared to continue until any running at all was impossible. The most extreme of the two was a patient with a stress fracture so chronic that you could actually palpate the bony callus on his shin and hear the bone clicking when they hopped up and down. When I gave my diagnosis (which was confirmed by x-ray) the patient told me they had known in their gut for a few months that it was likely to be a fracture but hadn’t wanted to stop running, for fear of losing out on races and everything he gained from running. And yet the first question this person asked was ‘do I really have to stop running?’
I do sympathise because being injured is awful but I do feel that I’m increasingly in a ‘shoot the messenger’ situation when I have given advice to rest from running (that’s rest, not give up). I have had a patient swear at me because I advised them to rest for two weeks from running and to cross train instead. Actual aggressive language used because I gave a professional opinion. I may be good but I can’t speed up the natural healing times of muscle, tendon or bone. They all need their time to be appropriately treated and severity of an injury will always have a much bigger impact. Continuing to over load healing tissues will always mean things take much longer to heal, I don’t make this shit up.
Recently I have become aware of a personal trainer who is encouraging their beginners running group to run pretty much daily. Firstly, you’re going to put people off running because before long it will start to seem like a chore but secondly that is far too much for beginners who are just getting used to putting 4 TIMES THEIR BODY WEIGHT through their lower limbs. It’s making beginners over train and a study has found that training error and over training are the most common cause of over use injuries in recreational runners. In fact the most common type of injury among recreational runners is overuse injury, not sprains and strains. They are injuries that are unavoidable and yet more and more injuries like this are walking through my clinic door. (If you fancy a read that’s Taunton et al who published a study in the British Journal of Sports Medicine in 2002, just to show again I’M NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP!).
Why this obsession with running hard and fast all the time? Why are people being made to feel like they have to? Running every day doesn’t suit the majority of runners and to do that I think you have to be a runner of great experience who has built up to it sensibly over a longer period of time. That’s why I felt quite glad that I saw an orthopaedic surgeon comment that people planning on training for a marathon should have been running 2-3 times a week in the 6 months before training commenced. The body needs to be trained to train, conditioned to be able to handle the task that is given to it.
So if you’re a runner who feels like they need to keep up with everyone on social media and feel guilty about not joining in with run streaks, please don’t. Think about what your own running goals are. Be smart with your training. Give your body a rest from the pounding it gets 3- 4 times a week with some cross training, pilates or yoga. And if you get a niggle or are concerned about any pain that isn’t your usual post run pain go and ask your GP or an appropriate clinician for advice. Some things can’t be diagnosed via Twitter.
Over Christmas I had been musing about athletics and running clubs. It has always amazed me that there are so many visible runners around my local area but no club to cater for them. I had a chat with a neighbour who dabbles a bit in running and she asked if I would help her and some others in taking their running to the next level. Over a few glasses of wine I said I would and when she said I should charge I was like ‘no, no I’d do that shit for free’.
And so I mused a bit on how I would go about this. I thought about the name of the Facebook group and where these runners would meet. But then because it was Christmas I thought I would leave it until the New Year and definitely after my presentation/study week in uni.
During the first week in January I happened to log in to Facebook and spotted a new page that people were joining:
‘Pontyclun Road Runners’.
Okay, I thought, I definitely don’t remember creating the Facebook page I had been thinking of. No, it was a local couple who had pretty much the same idea as I had. After a few messages on the page and offering help in leading runs this couple had made me an admin on their page. Then things progressed to me offering to lead runs on a Wednesday for people unable to make Tuesday and Thursday. Requests to join the group didn’t stop and well over 100 people had joined in a couple of days. All people who run or want to run, all different abilities but all people who want to run.
And so this spiral of events lead me to be standing in a local retail car park in the lashing rain last night waiting for five total beginners who wanted to try a run/walk session. Â I really didn’t expect anyone to turn up but they did.
There were two women who had never run in their lives. Two men who had run many years previously and now wanted to get back into it again and a neighbour whose husband runs and who wants to try it for herself. I lead a short session and everyone managed it. I was thrilled for them.
As that group got into the cars and drove back to the warm I tried to dry off a little and warm up while I waited for the 7pm group. In the end five of us ran a 4 and a half mile route at a steady pace while the rain got heavier and heavier. My neighbour who had urged me to start a group was one of them and even though she said it was faster than her usual pace, managed to keep up. I was so proud of her. The other people were equally brilliant and at the end, despite the drenching we all got, said they were glad they had come along.
When I came home I was buzzing. I felt like I had done a really wonderful thing. It hadn’t felt like a chore to me, I had shared something with others that I truly love and they had all seemed to like it. One of the chaps in the beginners group said he had used to run half marathons but over the years had put on weight and encountered health problems. He said without the group he would probably never have tried going out on his own. I felt a lump in my throat when he told me this as I realized what a massive step this man had taken and a huge leap of faith to come along to my group, trusting me to help him.
I love running, this is no secret to anyone I know. Last night demonstrated to me how simple and yet so wonderful running can be. It is something that is accessible to the majority of people whatever their motivations for doing it. You can do it in almost all weathers and you don’t need anything really fancy or expensive to do it. I know people charge for beginners courses and running coaching but I don’t want to. There is a little club on the verge of blooming, made up of like minded people who just want to run with some support. To charge for that would be against everything that I think running is about. I know some people do make a living out of it but I wouldn’t want it to be a job. I just want to help other runners and enjoy my running at the same time. I really hope this club isn’t a flash in the pan and that we can keep it going because I think it would be great for everyone in our community. Maybe some of the beginners will develop a love for running in the same way I have.
Since September I have felt rough. As mentioned in previous posts I started really struggling with any exercise and ended up on a course of steroids. The steroids were successful in settling my asthma down but that didn’t seem to be the end of it. My chest was still productive despite the GP saying I didn’t need antibiotics and my head felt like it was ten times the weight it should be. I tried running but my legs were like lead and there was an unnatural crawling sweat that would cover my back and top lip. Obviously sweating is a natural side effect of exercise but this sweat was cold and accompanied by a swimming head.
So I stopped. And I rested. It has resulted in me not running for quite a few weeks. This also leads to the typical pattern of trying to fight against it: attempting running, telling myself I’m being a wimp, feeling guilty for not running or cycling and then worrying about losing all my fitness and undoing all the work I did training over the summer.
But doing all those things is an exercise in futility. Viruses have been around since the beginning of time and evolve at tremendous rates compared to the human race. Fighting against this tiny being that has millions of years of experience is pointless. So I focussed on my studies, the kids and work and allowed the healing process to take place. Trying to run while I felt so crap would either have made my chest worse again or just made me feel really down.
I haven’t been totally inactive though. I haven’t taken to bed other than making sure I have plenty of early nights. I’ve sacked off alcohol fr now to make sure I sleep better. And I have been taking the dog on long walks. I have been finding the dog walks rather healing. I am getting some exercise myself but in a way that doesn’t exacerbate everything else. Soothing, mindful dog walks have been my saviour from not being able to do anything more intense.
Yesterday my chest felt clearer and I went for a run. My confidence has depletes over the many weeks and I was worried going out. But I took it gently and even though it felt hard, my legs were no longer virally fatigued and my chest felt like it could move air through my lungs. I felt like I was finally better.
I’m not going to get those weeks back but again I have had to let myself heal. But now that I’m feeling well again I’m looking forward to some winter miles which will hopefully be filled with lots of winter smiles.
I haven’t run much at all lately. I was getting on okay and on the verge of signing up to races but a calf niggle stopped me in my tracks. Before I used to panic and enter all the races just in case, an urge that I never think is helped by reading achievements by others on social media. I used to get a ‘I must enter races to feel like a runner’ anxiety but of late I have taken a more sensible approach. There will always be races, the time will come again, I will get there and save myself wasting money in the long run.
I was about to start to get going again but my chest has flared up and I’m now on steroids and blah, blah I feel rough etc. But while I’ve not been running something else has been happening in the background. My seven year old has been quietly going off to cross country practice at school. He’s been taking his PE kit in, going to lunch early and then joining in with an older group of juniors who go to the same practice every Thursday. I thought it would be a flash in the pan, he’d realise his mates were off playing touch rugby and sack it off. But no. He’s kept going and I think he’s enjoying it.
On Saturday I took him to his first cross country race. It was at a high school and involved a lap and a half of a field. It didn’t all go to plan though. There were hundreds of kids, a huge scrum and sprint at the start meant a few boys tripped and fell. As the boys ran past me I couldn’t see him anywhere. Not at the front and not at the back. No where to be seen in the middle. I ran one way across the field and back to the other. And then I saw him. Floods of tears, holding his face. A boy had fallen in front of him and he’d tripped over him and hit his chin on the floor. A combination of shock and pain (and a fear of coming last) overcame him and he dropped out. My first instinct was to tell him he should have got up and carried on but then I scolded myself, as after all, he is only seven. I comforted him and we went home. On the drive home he said he was disappointed and that he was worried he wouldn’t get another go. I felt sad for him but I was relieved that he hadn’t been put off altogether. Having been spiked and elbowed in the past I think a cross country race can be just as vicious as many other sports
A side effect of eldest boy running has been that his younger brother aged five now wants t have a go. He had a bit of a pout on Saturday when I had to explain that the cross country was only for juniors and not for infants. I then remembered that we had a couple of junior Parkruns near us and a promise to sign him up and take him soon cheered him up.
I have to say that I’m thrilled that my children are taking an interest in running. Even if they don’t join a club or do it competitively I am happy that they seem happy to run for fun. I’m glad that they’ve been able to watch me enjoy running and I know that they’ve sometimes been frustrated when they haven’t been able to run with me. They’re definitely doers not watchers. As they’re getting older I’m sure they will do lots of other sports but I’m happy that I seem to be passing the baton down to them to continue my running tradition, in whatever manner they see fit. I feel that they’re also being taught that going for a run is a perfectly normal, acceptable activity and this will give them a good platform for their fitness and other sports as they grow older.
And after the disappointment on Saturday I came home from work to some lovely news. Eldest has been picked to run for his primary school at a cross country on Thursday. Proud Mum is probably an understatement but yes, I really am proud of my two little runners.
I feel really weird about running at the moment. I don’t think I’ve lost the urge. The love of running is still very much there but it seems less of a priority at the moment. While I was training for the triathlon I was doing something nearly every day. Swimming, biking and running had become a routine. But then with school holidays everything came to a standstill. And then September came, the kids went back to school and I still haven’t got myself back into a normal running routine.
I thought that because the overwhelming compulsion to run no matter what was finally under control I would be able to run at will and whenever I fancied instead of beasting myself and ending up injured. But right now I have ended up lost. There are no races on my horizon. I am reluctant to spend money on races that I might end up not doing. I have no running group or regular running friends that might coax me out with them. I drift aimlessly from running site to social media, reading about everyone else’s adventures and I wonder what I want to do and why the answer isn’t forthcoming.
I do feel like I’m at a bit of a cross roads with many aspects of my life. I am now 35. The children are 7 and 5 but there is a constant nagging voice about the possibility of another baby. I thought I was done but I’m not sure. I am also having a think about my career and how I want to progress or develop over the next few years. I will be entering the second year of my masters and that will take up a fair bit of my time and energy. Baby means my body would be busy doing other important things for a while. Career changes might mean less time for running. Whatever I decide I just feel like running might be the overall loser as it gets shoved down the priority list.
I went out running today and really enjoyed myself. I allowed myself to be lost in running rather than feeling lost about running. The sun was shining and for the first time in a long time I felt good. I felt like running isn’t quite done for me yet. I’m sure I will make some decisions and answers will present themselves to me about the things that I have been pondering. I feel like I am running adrift and I need something to point me in the right direction. Maybe I am more goal orientated than I first thought. What I do know is that running hasn’t gone anywhere, I just need to navigate my way back once I know what I’m doing.
Run My Own Way 