My parents were keen skiers. Our annual ski holiday was the highlight of the year for me. It beat our summer beach camping trips even though it was much shorter. I started taking alpine ski lessons when I was 4. My dad loved downhill skiing too, but it was not my mums’s cup of tea and she would always leave us to it and go nordic skiing. One day I decided to swap my alpine skis for nordic skis and go with my mum. The feeling was very odd: not only my foot was not fully attached to the ski but the skis also felt so light. I was careful, did a little bit of flat and then when I had gained confidence I went for a very gentle downhill slope (so gentle it was almost flat). But I fell right on my coccyx. It was painful for a while after that and I vouched to never do any nordic skiing again (although I’m starting to consider again now, 30 years later). Ever since I have had some pain in my coccyx if I remain seated for too long (that became more obvious as I started work and had extended periods in front of the computer or equally long times seating in meetings). But that never prevented me from doing any sport, and I never really gave it a second thought. Until August 2022.

August 2022 is when I started noticing pain in my lower back. I was awkwardly moving some boxes in the packed garage looking for something and felt some pain but it’s happened before and I didn’t think much of it at first as it appeared to go away as quickly as it started. But over the next few months the pain kept visiting me on and off and gradually got worse. So I turned to my GP, who referred me to get an X-Ray. This is when I discovered I had degenerative disc disease. The X-ray couldn’t have been clearer: I had pretty much no disc left between two of my vertebrae (the one between L5 and S1 for those of you in the know!). At first I panicked: would that be the end of running for me? So I researched it and asked my coach who provided some helpful advice and reassured me. But soon the pain in my lower back got worse and my movements were getting more and more restricted. I was struggling to put socks on and do my laces. But at that point running was not painful so I kept at it.

The pain was always lurking though. Sometimes when I walked, sometimes when trying to pick something off the floor (despite adopting a ‘good’ posture), sometimes as I was just sitting on a chair or lying in bed. I went back to the GP, who referred me to a physio. We did some electric waves, and started to do some strenghthening. We both assumed at that point that disc disease was what was causing me the pain. We worked together every week and I was given exercises to do at home in between sessions. The pain was not going away, it was turning into some sort of sciatica pain with a sharp throb that only last maybe one or two seconds. It would happen a few times a day and it was truly excruciating. My flexibility was not improving, although I was working on it with my physio too. I still managed somehow to keep running although I had a niggling doubt in my mind as to whether I was making my back worse by doing it. Because it certainly didn’t feel like it was getting better.

The pain got so bad that at some point just standing up to do some cooking in the kitchen was painful. I remember going out for my husband’s birthday for a meal and spending the entire time in pain and constantly shifting in my seat wishing for the pain to go away. Eventually we had to go home early because it was getting unbearable, which was a real shame. I went back to the GP, who just suggested keeping up with the physio. By then I had started some regular sessions on a traction table (the idea is to be attached to a table with your armpits resting on some pads and a belt tightened round your waist which pulls your lower body away from your upper body - it sounds painful, it’s actually delightful because it provides such relief. Bricklayers are apparently the main patients benefiting from this technique). I also tried the chiropractor, because I was getting desperate (nothin against chiropractors but the physio had always been my first port of call as a runner). The first session was amazing, the relief was instant and I could feel my old body back. But within a few weeks the same old pain came back and with that came crashing any hope of long term improvement. Getting out of the car was painful. I couldn’t run with my kids anymore, let alone do things I used to a mere months ago like trampolining. I was feeling very low. The pain started to happen during running too. I would feel stiff to start with despite the dynamic stretches I always do, but a few hundred yards later that agonizing pain would come and then again and it was just so painful I would stop at the second or third occurence and walk home, defeated.

Back pain is extremely common, and anyone with chronic back pain will know how debilitating it is. Although the sharp pain I was experiencing would only occur a few times a day, there was also an underlying back pain that was constant and I had to start taking pain killers at night so I could have a restful night. A few months later, running was getting painful and I stopped when I should have been training for the Chicago Marathon. I felt stripped of my runner identity, which had been an integral part of me for decades. I was feeling terribly low. I scanned Google for hours for alternatives, as it seems that no medical professional had a proper diagnosis for that very localised pain I was feeling. I did an MRI, then a scanner, and despite a small oedema, there was nothing explaining the stiffness and pain I was experiencing. One replacement GP discarded it as something I should just expect at my age. I knew I was no spring chicken at 45, but I didn’t expect to have the mobility of an 80-yr old (my mobility at that point was similar to my mum’s).

I went back to the GP once more. He suggested that given that I was spending lots of time seating at my desk, I could try a saddle chair, that may help with posture and general relief. Thankfully the company that made the chair have a trial policy (as the outright buy is really expensive) and I was ready to try anything so I ordered one. Like with anything else I had tried, I put lots of hope in it. But the trial was unsuccessful as I found that sitting on the chair caused me pain in the sit bones (ischial tuberosities). So I returned the chair. I tried sitting on a medicine ball also, but I didn’t find it comfortable either. So I went back to my old chair. A few more weeks passed with no improvement. I had a niggling doubt in my mind though. I just couldn’t accept to have gone from someone so active to being stuck in a much older person’s body. This didn’t make sense. There was one thing for me yet to try and that was getting my IUD removed. The pain had started a mere month after getting it (which itself has been an unexpectedly painful experience), and it may well have been a coincidence but I had nothing left to try. I had stopped running by then, and replaced it with swimming because I wanted to keep some level of fitness. On one hand I was missing my runs, on the other hand I could feel my running mojo slipping away a bit more each day. I stopped looking at Strava because seeing everyone’s achievements was making me feel worse and I felt like a failure.

I did get my IUD removed. I was really hoping for instant relief. But then again, that didn’t come. Back to my GP again, whose only suggestion then was to give it a bit of time and pay another visit to the chiropractor and recommended a new one. So there I went. I left his office a fixed woman, just like last time I had visited my old chiropractor. But I had lower expectations this time: would it be once again a temporary fix? The chiropractor gave me a glimmer of hope though when he assessed me, as I talked through my hope of one day being able to run again. He told me he could not see any physical reason that would prevent me from running again soon. Meanwhile I continued to visit my physio. I was working mostly on stretching, and strengthening and had also replaced the electric waves by electromagnetic waves. It seemed that my life was now revolving around medical appointments to try and shoo off this back pain.

But then over the course of a few weeks, something happen: I noticed I wasn’t constantly thinking about the pain. Which meant it was no longer following me like my shadow. My physio noticed some improvements in flexibility. Not enormous (I have never been very flexible even at the peak of my fitness), but enough to be noticeable. I was still struggling with tying my shoe laces but I was moving more freely and no longer needed pain killers. I could start to see a light at the end of the tunnel, although I didn’t want to be too hopeful. I upped my physio appointments to twice a week and noticed further improvements. My fitness had degraded despite the swimming sessions, but the strengthening exercises I was doing more regularly were paying off. I was starting to feel stronger and no longer out of breath when walking up hills.

A few more weeks in and I felt well enough to start running again. I started, slowly, with just 3k. Then 4, then 5. Then I started running with my husbands and dogs and managed to push to 6. I did a few 6k. Then I went for 8k. Then I got ill with flu-like symptoms and that just wiped me out. I had just started to run again and I found myself lying in bed for a whole day and the following days I was in and out of bed with no energy to even go for a walk. But I just bid my time. I remembered I had run 8k just a few days before that, so that was possible. I just needed to regain my strength. I decided to take it easy and allow myself the time to fully get better. Two weeks later, I felt I had regained enough energy to try running again. So I did 6k. Then a few days later another 6. Then 8. And this is where I am now. And I am slow. So much slower than I was at that time last year. And it’s hard sometimes. A few weeks ago, I should have been on the starting line of the Chicago Marathon. It wasn’t meant to be this year, but I deferred my entry to next year. I’m not giving up on running. I just can’t. I will just have to work hard to get back to where I was before I got injured. But I think this is possible, and I refuse to give up on that dream to complete all Marathon World Majors. I still have a few stars to go after, and I will do my damn best to get them.

So this post is a message of you to any of you injured runners out there. Don’t lose hope. A mere few months ago I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to run again. I felt I no longer belonged to that club that I had been so proud to be a part of for all these years. I am sure I would have found a replacement eventually. But I am glad I didn’t have to. Because running makes me happy. Even if I never run again at the speed I used to, I am glad my body still works well enough to enable me to run. I am not sure how long it will last, but I certainly will no longer take it for granted. And when the runs feel long and tough, I will remember that I am still one of the lucky ones. I hope you are too, now, or in the future. And if you’re planning on running the Chicago Marathon next year, give me a shout!

Happy recovery!

Thankfully, I had managed a 3:37:16 in the New York City Marathon in 2019. However, getting in the Boston Marathon is still not a given as each year, whether you get in or not depends on the ‘cut-off time’. Practically, what this means is that there is a set number of places for people who manage a sub-3:40 for my age range, and they are allocated in increasing order of qualifying time. So it could be that all places have gone by the time they start looking at people who did 3:35 or above (because for that year most 40-44yrd old female runners applying for Boston managed some marathon finish times under 3:35). I was lucky when applying in 2021 that the cut-off time was 0 minute 0 second so all sub 3:40 female applicants in my age range got a place for the 126th Boston Marathon. As a side note, I saw a few days ago that the cut-off time for applications to the 2024 marathon is back to 5:29, so I call myself extremely lucky to have been able to run it with my 3:37 time. But when applying in 2021 I knew that it was my final chance to use my NYC 2019 qualifying time before it became irrelevant.

The timing of the Boston marathon itself wasn’t great (is it ever?) as I was in the middle of completing a MSc and was wondering where I would find the time to fit in marathon training. But I also remembered that I may never get the chance again, so I somehow had to make it work. So the first thing I did was to contact my truster coach at ExecFit Training, Trevor Da Silva, so he could design a training plan. I cannot recommend enough having a training coach if you can afford it: not only will it remove the mental hurdles of having to think on a weekly basis about how far and how fast you have to train, but it also means that you’re unlikely to do too much or too little and injury yourself while training or on the day.
So I started training following Trevor’s plan. Because I had been training with Trevor since my first ultra-marathon in 2018, Trevor knew exactly where I was at fitness-wise and he knew how much he could realistically push me. I told him that with the studies contraints I didn’t want to put too much pressure on myself and would be happy with a 3:50 time. He thought that was achievable so I trained for that. I found that although fitting in the training around the studies was tough, it was ironically very helpful in helping me manage the stress of the exams. It really worked and helped me to put things in perspective. It also took me back to my student days in Edinburgh and the first exam of my final MEng year. I was so stressed the day before the exam that I was still awake past midnight, which was making it worse as I panicked about being too tired to understand the exam questions (for any of you who it may be familiar with it, the first exam was on finite-element analysis, I didn’t think I could wing it). So what I did back then was to get out of my campus room and run around the campus. It was dark, there was absolutely nobody around, but it helped a lot: when I returned to my room, I finally managed to get some sleep. I digressed, but the point I am making here is that if you think you can’t fit in marathon training because you have way too much on, then it may actually just be what you need to alleviate stress.

Fast forward a few months and apart from a foot injury that required me to dial down the training, everything went to plan and I was soon ready to fly out to Boston. Unfortunately I had not managed to find accommodation close to the finish line so I just had to accept I would be taking the T (local metro/tube) home. But i was happy I had booked an apartment as that meant that sticking to a strict pre-marathon diet was much easier (In NYC, where I stayed in a hotel, I found that much more challenging as it’s hard to find a place that serves plain pasta). My pre-marathon diet is always pretty strict and boring and consists of porridge for breakfast, toasts with jam, fruit or soup for snack and plain pasta (nothing in it, except a squirt of ketchup) and fruit for lunch and dinner. And zero alcohol.

I felt as prepared as I could have been, but as nervous as always before any marathon. But I was also very excited to be running through parts of Boston I was once familiar with but that I had not seen in over 10 years. And the route elevation was trending downhill, with just one small glitch in the infamous Heartbreak Hill around mile 20. I was lucky that my wave start was not an early one so I only needed to catch the bus to Hopkinton at around 8am, which was much more acceptable than the NYC 5am bus trip to a late riser like me. After the expo I even get to hear from one of my running idols, Kathrine Switzer, who became the first woman to run the Boston Marathon as an officially registered competitor.

The morning of the marathon finally arrived and I got on the bus. I don’t remember much of the bus journey, I think I was probably still half asleep. But once in Hopkinton, it felt real and the excitement was palpable. At that point I just couldn’t wait to get going (and not only because I felt cold despite the additional clothing I had brought with me). Once we started I soaked in the atmosphere and it was just as I had imagined, if not better: Boston marathon supporters take their role pretty seriously and make a day of it. They’re all sitting in their front yard, decorated for the occasion and all ages come to cheer the runners. It feels like a party, and within the first few minutes the nerves were gone. Such an enjoyable experience and I felt so privileged to be there, taking part in this legendary race.

I tried to rein in the excitement so as not to go too fast and burn myself, especially with the slight downhill. I was also looking to see whether I could spot the famous Boston marathon cheering dogs: Spencer and Penny. Finally spotting them on the side of the road gave me a huge boost. Sadly Spencer and Penny passed away this year, leaving a huge hole in the heart of Boston marathon lovers.

The miles were passing but I started to realise that the downhill was not just downhill and the uphills seemed to materialise way before I was expecting them. i probably had slightly idealised the race profile, despite looking at it prior to the race. I knew I had prepared for hills, so they were doable, but nevertheless hard especially when you don’t expect anything too significant before mile 20. I kept focusing on the absolute joy of being able to run the Boston marathon at all and kept putting one foot in front of another. I was most looking forward to approaching Wellesley and seeing what, if anything, had changed in the past 10 years. I also knew that Wellesley students are reknown for their marathon-cheering skills so I knew I would know when I was approaching the town.

And of course Wellesley didn’t disappoint!! I even felt a little tear forming in my eyes when running down the main street. It looked a little bit different from how I remembered it, with noticeably my favourite coffee shop. Pete’s Coffee, having closed down. But I still recognised that beautiful town that was my home for a little while. Then onwards to Newton and more hills. I couldn’t remember how far Heartbreak Hill was supposed to be, so every time I ran up a slight hill I wondered if that was it. But no. So I kept running. A bit downhill. A bit uphill. One of my toes on my left foot was starting to hurt. I couldn’t figure out why as I had not had this issue with previous marathons. I brushed it off, there was nothing I could do about it anyway. Still no sign of Heartbreak Hill, where was it? Had I missed it? It turns out I had. To me, it had just been another hill. Weird, because if you look at the marathon profile, it does look a bit higher than the others. But maybe the noise from the supporters had helped me through it without me noticing it. Also I had trained on quite big hills back home, so maybe that was another reason. I was now looking forward to approaching Fenway park and seeing that famous Citgo sign.

My toe was still hurting and now my thighs felt sore too, although I had no idea why. I had run previous marathons in the same clothes so didn’t think it would be chaffing. Once again, the best option was to ignore the pain and push through. Just a few miles left!!

The last few miles flew by. I was in the middle of the city, on my way to Boylston street and that iconic blue and yellow finish line!! The crowds were incredible, so much energy and kindness. The approach also reminded me of the horror experienced by the 2013 marathon runners and I thought about those who died. A wave of sadness and anger swept over me and I felt more determined than ever to cross that finish line and somehow, surrounded with my fellow runners, contribute to the ‘Boston Strong’ movement.

Crossing that finish line was incredible. No doubt the highlight of my running life. A possibly one-in-a-lifetime event, not to be taken for granted. But one I would like to experience again once day, if my body lets me. It was definitely worth the bleeding toe, the lost toe nail and the serious burn from chaffing on my thighs. I even managed to beat my expected time and finish in 3:44:32, which I was pretty happy with. So if you have ever dreamt of running Boston and you are in a position to either raise the amount of money needed or are fast enough to qualify, do it. It’s a memory you will cherish forever.

Happy running!

Of course, you may expect that elite athletes experience running as a stressor due to pressures they are under to perform. What can be little/medium stressors for amateur runners like me - for example, the risk of injury - take a different meaning when you are at the elite level and earning a living from your races. Yet, every runner can experience stress from running at some point. It takes me back a few years ago, when I was preparing for a 100k race whilst working 3 days a week and studying for a pretty full-on data science specialization in my spare time. I remember one day bursting into tears in front of my husband, and saying ‘I won’t be able to do it all, there just aren’t enough hours in the day!’. My dad had passed away the previous year, and at this point my children were still 3 and 6 so my head and hands were pretty much full. So I was very much at breaking point, even though I didn’t fully realize it at the time. I still had my running coach (who had helped me run a pretty decent first ultra-marathon the year before) and a very structured 5-day a week training plan. Given that my data science specialization was occupying a lot of my spare time including most evenings and weekends, that left very little time to ultra-marathon training. The longer training sessions became a chore, and there was little left of my love of running at that point. I pushed on, did everything I could but I was stressed most of the time. Looking back, I should have dropped one of my plates, but at the time, I thought that would be showing defeat and I didn’t want to be weak. So I just pushed through.

I ran another ultra-marathon earlier this year, but I wanted to run a smaller race in October, which was due to be a 25k with about 1100m ascent. Then a friend of mine who was running the longer race in the series, encouraged me to upgrade. I wasn’t sure at first, but the route looked so scenic that I thought at the time that might be fun. But between signing up for the race and the actual race day, I had moved country with my family, and started my MSc, which happens to be just as demanding as a full-time job with the added pressure of regular exams. So when my October ultra-marathon race was eventually cancelled due to COVID, I was relieved! At that point, I recognized that I couldn’t do it all and decided to scale back my running. I said goodbye to my coach (that was a hard decision, as I had come to see him as my ‘running dad’), and decided to not book any big race before mid-year next year. After that point my stress levels should, I hope, gone back to a sensible level (I hope), which would be much more conducive to an intensive training schedule. However, I still had in the back of my mind that if I wanted to run the Boston marathon, next year was the last chance I had to apply with my 2019 New York marathon qualifying time. My first thought was to just enter and defer if I got in. But unfortunately one of the rules of Boston is that you can’t defer. So what to do? I still applied and I honestly don’t know whether I will be running it if I get in. Boston is a dream of mine, as you will know if you have read my previous posts. But will it be all too much to train for it alongside my MSc? It’s too early to tell. And it’s even too early to think about it as I am not even in yet. For all I know, there may be too many runners faster than me so I won’t make the cut. But if I don’t get in, at least I will be able to find a silver lining: I won’t have to worry about fitting in all in an already busy life.

So what’s my point? That if you run for mindfulness, ‘me time’, relaxing, that’s exactly how running should feel for you. The day you don’t get this stress relief, but instead feel stressed at the idea of going for a run, you need to re-evaluate. Are you taking on too much? Can you drop something that is NOT running, to make more space for it - this would be the ideal scenario, as exercise remains a good way in general to tackle the stresses of life. If not, it may be necessary to scale back your running so you can come back stronger. And if you’re worried about the years passing and losing your speed, take comfort in reading about Mariko Yugeta who ran a 2:52 marathon at the tender age of 62. So taking it easier right now doesn’t mean you should forget your running dreams.

Happy running!

I signed up for the 2020 version of this race last year after the Paris Marathon I had signed up for was cancelled, and on my coach’s suggestion. At 58k with 1600m total ascent, I knew that it wouldn’t be a stroll in the park but then I had already run (and somehow won outright) the Cotswolds Way Half Challenge (CWC) in 2018, which looked similar with 50k and 1250m total ascent. Then due to COVID, the JCC was cancelled and postponed to 2021. I still wanted to run it so I just kept on training, hoping I would be able to make the new date. I did wonder whether to upgrade to the full 100k challenge and discussed with my coach but the training mileage required of up to 110/120k a week was more than I thought I could - or even wanted to - manage. So 58k it was going to be.

Having a big event to train for during the COVID lockdowns rollercoaster really helped me mentally. My training plan was the only certainty, with a clear plan for the day - no matter what else happened in the world, I would just lace up my shoes and go out and run. Sometimes it had to be at night, because during the day the streets were too busy and I didn’t want to constantly have to dodge people to be able to stick to social distancing. At night there was pretty much no one around so it was much easier to achieve flow.

I kept on training and building up the mileage. One difficulty was to replicate the ascent I would be facing during the race. There are a few small hills around where I live, some with 10% incline but that’s about it. Anybody who is both familiar with Richmond Park and the Jurassic Coast knows that the terrains are hardly comparable, but laps of Richmond Park is the best I had to train on locally.

Race day finally arrived and the usual nerves showed up. I don’t think I’ve ever approached a race cool as a cucumber. No matter what my goal is, I’m still a bag of nerves. But I know it goes away as soon as I cross the start line. I felt ready. I knew I had not trained on the steepest hills but I had ran a number of 32/34k training runs, my nutrition had been good, I had become faster lately and I felt generally strong. The odds were good. I had experienced some issues with blisters during training as I had had to get my trusted custom insoles refurbished but I had them back and had broken them in so I was good to go. In terms of race day equipment, I hadn’t reinvented the wheel and instead searched my Facebook’s memories to find a picture of my flat lay for the CWC - et voila!!

I arrived at the Corfe Castle start with plenty of time for my 09:50am start but straight away was taken aback by the registration queue, which was huge. I had had no queue at the start of the CWC so it was a bit of a shock. But because I still had plenty of time before my wave start, there was nothing to worry about. I dropped my bag at the bag area (I had packed a few warm things that I could wear after finishing the race), did the compulsory stop at the portaloo and headed for the tent to stay away from the drizzle (another contrast from the CWC which I ran on a very hot sunny day). Also, I had a hill strategy. Originally I had told my coach I was going walk up most of the hills like I had done for the CWC and run the rest, but he advised me to try and walk/run them instead to gain precious time, and walk the steep downhills instead to minimise the risk of injury. So I had agreed with myself to try the walk/run if possible and drop to a walk if it got too tough and my legs didn’t feel up to it. That bit was going to be ok. But then, came the first blow: the first 25k was going to be a loop taking us back to the start. I had missed that when looking up the route as I had been so focus on the elevation. For some reason, that hit me hard. I’ve always been one to hate laps, which is why I’m not fond of track training (although I know it would be good for me). I much prefer A to B route, which is why the CWC had fitted me like a glove. This may have been a pivotal moment in my JCC race. And I had not even started.

It was now time to get to the start line and check out the competition. Because the JCC is open to walkers, joggers and runners alike there was a mixed crowd but I was interested in the other runners. Did I have a chance to win? Maybe. That would be nice, but I was more interested in just finishing the race and being finally able to chill for a few weeks. There were a few other runners there, and I knew there may be other runners in other waves also. That is the interesting thing about the races from Action Challenge is that because of the different wave start times you never actually know what your current ranking is. Which can be a good thing, as you are only really competing against yourself. But if you are after a win, it’s impossible to know how the other runners are handling the race as they could be well ahead of you or way behind you, neither of which is a reflection of their finish time. So better to park this aside until you cross the finish line and check your place then.

I honestly can’t remember much about the first 15k. I just remember it being undulating, feeling a bit frustrated about not seeing the sea, and annoyed at having to overtake a rather large number of walkers (who were probably just as annoyed by me passing them) in narrow sections of the route. I only had myself to blame for not picking an earlier start time - once again I had wrongly relied on my CWC experience where there were fewer walkers and very few narrow sections. I also met two guys who appeared to be running roughly at my pace. We started chatting and they asked me what time I was hoping for. I replied jokingly that I needed to check out the hills before I could give them an estimate. They were running the quarter challenge 25k, and said they were hoping for 2 hours. A quick calc in my head and judging their current pace, and I had a little internal chuckle (they seem to be pretty serious about it). I mean 2 hours for a 25k on flat would be decent. But they had to contend with 570m total ascent, so from my experience I thought it sounded a tad optimistic. But I kept my mouth shut and just wished them good luck.

Around 15k is when problems started to show up. By then I had probably climbed less than 350m. That was not good. My legs felt tired but I couldn’t figure out why. I had taken my gels, drank my fluids, there was no local pain anywhere. I had been in much better shape at the start of JCC than I had been at the start of CWC, so what was happening? I knew I had only 10k left before the refuelling station, I just had to keep going until then and then assess the situation. But what if I gave up now? There was still such a long way to go to the 58k finish line. It felt pretty impossible to manage. Then I thought I had told so many people about this race and I had trained so hard for this, I couldn’t just give up without a fight. I had to keep going. I had to adjust my pace. And if that meant more walking that I had originally hoped, so be it. So I kept putting one foot in front of another. There were some pretty muddy sections on the way. I was so fed up with running in mud, as the previous few weeks had been so miserable weather-wise and I am no mud enthusiast. But I tried to see the positive side, at least I had my Hoka Speedgoat shoes on and not my Challenger ATR ones so I could stay upright!

The next 35k or so were really a case of putting one foot in front of the other and trying hard to focus on that. The immediate goal was to get to the refuelling station at 25k. I would allow myself a brief rest there. At about 23k I spotted the ‘2-hours’ runners again. By that point almost 3 hours had passed. Another internal chuckle. I overtook them and reached the refuelling station. I filled my bottles - after a few attempts as I had not realised the squash had not been diluted. I should have checked first as I nearly spat it out. Even to a dehydrated runner, plain squash tastes pretty disgusting. I lay down on the ground in the recovery position for about 10 minutes. Although I was pretty tired, I didn’t want to get too comfortable there (yes the bare ground felt very comfortable at that point) but most importantly I was starting to get cold and needed to get moving again.

Putting one foot in front of the other became hard when we hit the steep hills. I distinctly remember the feeling I experienced at the bottom of each steep hill, just looking up and muttering under my breath ‘FFS, not another one!!!’. Remember that my legs had gone at 15k, so for each hill I had to dig pretty deep. I did briefly consider stopping to take some pictures en route but decided against it because I couldn’t be bothered and just wanted to get to the finish line as soon as possible. Eventually I gave in and took shots of the most noticeable places (a grand number of four pics) - they are all in this post. I don’t think there was much else going on in my mind at that point besides getting to that finish line. Until I hit that pebble beach. Covered in slippery algae. There was much internal swearing going on at that point.

Something happened about 10k from the finish though. The hardest work was behind me then and my spirits suddenly lifted in the most spectacular way. Finally the finish line felt within reach. Finally I had the certitude I would not DNF (a runner’s term for starting but not completing a race, ‘Did Not Finish’). The rain had gone away and I felt like - a very slow - Laura Ingalls. I overtook a few runners on the way (most of them walking, but to be fair, they were doing the 100k distance, so fair play) and there were very few walkers on my way by that stage. There is honestly nothing like the knowledge that your remaining mileage falls to a single digit during an ultra marathon. The last mile was along a stretch of beach in Weymouth and knowing I was getting so close was totally elating. A few more turns and the finish line was in sight. A few of the volunteers started clapping when they saw me approaching. I was beaming. I was on the verge of tears. The feeling of achievement was intense and overwhelming. I reached out for my phone and my husband had sent me a screenshot showing I was third female in the race, which was totally incredible and unexpected given the struggle. But I had run slightly faster than in the CWC and given the bigger total ascent, this was an accomplishment in itself. My coach had also tracked me during the race and told me I had overtaken the third female in the last 16k (I wasn’t aware of that as she had started her race about three hours before me so had long finished by the time I crossed that finish line). It just shows that it’s worth pushing until the end, as I finished a mere eight minutes faster than her.

Now, will I run another ultra-marathon? If asked on the day, my answer would have been ‘You have to be joking’. This race felt tough compared to the CWC which I really enjoyed, and I was much better prepared so I still don’t know what went wrong. My best guess is that my mindset contributed to it. A few days later, when asked, I said ‘Give me a few more days’. Today, it’s been over a week and I will tell you ‘Definitely’. Ultra-marathons are tough physically and mentally, they’re painful, they make you question your life choices for sure. But they’re also stories of resilience, of determination, of that physical strength that’s in all of us if we’re willing to try hard. So if you’re ever considering running one, stop thinking and sign up - it will be the best thing you’ve ever done.

Happy running!

In the past, every time I saw a hill ahead of me I would start huffing and puffing, literally and not so literally. In my mind, I thought I just couldn’t tackle them, regardless of where my fitness was at the time. It’s not that I was not physically capable of overcoming them, it was all about my mindset. I had a defeating and sulking attitude to them. I just found them painful, unpleasant, knew they would slow me down. I really had nothing positive to say about them at all. They were just in my way and I found them irritating. I even remember some locations that I would just avoid so I didn’t have to run up a hill. Long hills were the worst. Even if the map just showed a gradient of 2%, if it went on for a kilometer for example, I could consider it a beast I was not willing to fight.

I think my mindset really changed after I completed the Box Hill Tough 10k at the end of 2017. I picked it originally because after running a number of road races I was looking for something different, new and challenging. And challenging it was, with a total ascent of 323m. As many other people, I walked a lot of it, which was probably key to my mindset change. Prior to that I would NEVER have walked in a race. Walking for me was giving up, and in the past on the rare occasion (I think there was only one) I stopped to walk, I pulled out of the race because I deemed myself not deserving of the ‘finisher’ title. The Box Hill run changed that altogether, and that’s also after that event that I started to consider ultra marathon running. Box Hill showed me that there are other ways to tackle a hill than to go with brute force - which wouldn’t have helped in that case as running it up would have wasted my energy and left me with nothing to finish the race. My Box Hill experience led me to running my first ultra marathon, a 50k hilly feat in the Cotswolds with 1250m of total ascent. These two races alone significantly increased my confidence in hill running, in an ironic way as both had involved lots of walking.

Training as a Chi Running instructor also taught me which hills to run up and which hills to walk up. It depends on the gradient but as a rule of thumb if would can walk up it faster than you can run up it, there you have it. A simple but pretty useful rule. That combined with my trail running experience in turn gave me the confidence to give fell running a go. Fell running is described by Wikipedia as the sport of running and racing, off-road, over upland country where the gradient climbed is a significant component of the difficulty. The term originates from the Lake District, which frankly I only discovered when writing up this post! So I signed up for a 19k run in the Alps, with a one-off ascent of 1250m (much more challenging than the undulating Cotswolds run, which was a succession of smaller up-and-downs). It was brutal, especially as it was just 2 weeks after my 50k ultra marathon. But I did it, and I absolutely loved it. My love of fell running was born that day, and I have now run that same 19k race a few times and came 5th in my category in 2019 and was pretty chuffed with that.

All this taught me one thing: it’s preferable to have a strategy when it comes to hills. That applies equally to training and racing but is definitely necessary in long races. So, what should it be? Well, it’s very much an individual decision that depends on a number of factors, but to come up with yours I would recommend you consider the following:

1. Research your running route. Does it include hills? How steep are they? How long are they? How long is your overall run? If you happen to have a GPS device with you when running or walking it, record it so you get a more accurate idea of the hill elevation profile and length.

2. Are you used to running hills? If not, start including hills in your training. First, you can start by walking them. Then progress to walk/run and when you feel more confident and/or stronger, run it up.

3. If you experience a feeling of either hate or terror (or both) towards hills, question it! What happened last time you tried one? Most likely you’ll find that either you managed it fine, or you ended up walking. And both are absolutely fine. Just because you walked it last time doesn’t mean you have to let it defeat you once again. Learn to break the cycle. Today is a brand new day, and history doesn’t have to repeat itself.

Considering all the above, you need to decide whether you will walk it, run it or walk/run it. Whatever you choose, aim high, i.e. if you’re not sure whether you can run it, try to run it and drop to a walk/run if really needed. Remember not to let the hill beat you without a fight.

Also, if the incline of the hill varies, focus on the changes, i.e. dig deeper when you are on the steepest section, but then learn to appreciate when the incline decreases slightly, and try to focus on how your body reacts to it (less effort required). Also, try finding a focus point in the not-so-far distance (say a third into the hill, or half way) and appreciate how much progress you are making towards that focus point. Once you’ve reached it, find another focus point and repeat. I personally use lots of focus points when going up a hill, being cars parked on the side of the road, or benches, litter bins, postboxes, etc. I focus on reaching that point, then move on to the next one etc.

Another tactic I use when all else fails is to count my foot steps. I usually count to 10 and repeat until I get to the top. I find counting my steps helps me focus on my progress up the hill - it is tangible evidence that I am further than I was a few seconds ago!

But above everything, don’t expect to become the king or queen of hills straight away if you’re new to them. Don’t be disappointed, just focus on the little wins. The reason it became easier (never ‘easy’!) and even enjoyable for me is repetition, practice and challenging my mindset. And I will definitely using all my tactics above this weekend as I run my next ultra marathon, the 58k hilly first half challenge of the Jurassic Coast Challenge, with a total ascent of 1650m and THIS elevation profile - wish me luck :-).

Happy running everyone!

Running has been an outlet, but also the only bit of normality that was allowed and finally, the ONE thing I felt I had control over. I had a running plan and I just stuck to it. There was no uncertainty in it, whatever was in the plan, I did. That came with huge benefits to my mental health, and it acted as balance to whatever the world was throwing at us, but also to my physical health. As a result of still showing up everyday and logging the miles, I became stronger and I started to run faster. In September 2020, when there was a brief ray of sunshine and we thought the worst was over, I ran the Kew Gardens 10k and bagged a PB in 46:31. I did a timed race again on Halloween Day with Phoenix Running at the Denbies Wine Estate but used it more as a training run and it was rather hilly… But all these achievements in turn filled my mind with gratitude and positivity.

So why am I writing all this? My point is that I want to emphasize the huge benefits of exercise, and running in particular. One main advantage of running has been reinforced by the various lockdowns: it doesn’t require access to a gym or any equipment besides a pair of trainers (unless you have to self-isolate of course, in which case a treadmill comes in handy).

Also, I found I was craving fresh air during lockdown and exercising was one of the only permissible reasons to get out, which I found made it so much easier to find motivation. Admittedly I could have walked instead, but thankfully in the UK we were not restricted in terms of mileage from home, and just think how much further you can explore if you’re running for an hour instead of walking. And remember the famous runner high. Another point for running!

Finally, a large-scale study conducted in the US and published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine found that consistently meeting exercise guidelines (150 minutes per week of moderate intensity physical activity) was strongly associated with a reduced odds for severe COVID-19 among infected adults. Even with vaccinations well underway, it makes for a pretty compelling incentive to start exercising today instead of tomorrow.

So if you have managed to stick to your running goals during the pandemic, well done! I would love to hear how you managed to stay motivated through the ups and downs. And if you fell off the exercise wagon or never got started in the first place, go on, lace up your shoes today and give it a try. Or reach out if you would like some tips to get you started. In any case, I’ve never heard anyone say they felt worse after going for a run (unless injured, obviously!).

Just remember to be considerate whilst running and leave plenty of space when passing people as long as social-distancing rules apply!

Happy running!

I have always liked setting myself challenges in life, being at work or outside of work. If I’m told I can’t do something or if I have doubts that I can do it at all, that just forces me to try harder. So after my first ultra-marathon last year, I thought I may have another go at my all-time runner’s dream of qualifying for the Boston marathon. So what’s the appeal of Boston you’ll say? Well, first of all, I like the fact that Boston is the only World Major marathon that you need to qualify for in order to run it. That in itself is the challenge I wanted to set myself. Another reason for wanting to run Boston is that I lived in Wellesley, one of its suburbs for 1.5 year (incidentally this was my training ground for the London marathon. That included a few laps of Lake Waban through the Boston winter, which I have very fond memories of). As it happens, the Boston marathon runs through Wellesley, so that makes it extra special to me.

When I was younger and training for London back in 2010, qualifying for Boston definitely felt out of reach (it was then 3:35 for my age category). But back then the qualifying time for the 40-44 bracket was 3:45. When I managed 3:54 in London I thought that I would give it a go when I reached 40 as I thought I could do a sub 3:45. So after completing my first ultra last year, I thought a Boston qualification would be my next challenge. But then the bad news came this year in the form of faster qualifying times. The 3:45 qualifying time became 3:40, which made it more challenging. Never mind, I had my trusted coach on my side (he had already coached me to victory in my ultra so if he thought that was doable I would just throw myself into the training and see what would happen). That’s when I signed up for the Edinburgh marathon, because I had been told it was flat and a good course for a PB. But things didn’t go to plan during training and I got injured (the good old hamstring). So that put an end to it. I had agreed with my coach that we would focus on 10ks and half-marathons for the rest of 2019 to have a good marathon prep for 2020. But then in February this year I received the unexpected news that I had got a place in the ballot for the New York City Marathon on 3rd Nov 2019. The New York City Marathon an iconic race that my marathoner dad always dreamt of running but never did because he considered the associated expenses too extravagant. He passed away last year so running this year would be very special to me. So Coach and I had to revisit the training accordingly.

I ended up running the Edinburgh half-marathon instead of the full distance in May. I was glad it turned out that way as the wind gusts would definitely have got in the way of a BQ anyway. I started marathon training for NYC around June time. Initially on 4 days a week as I was expecting to change job at the time and we had some family holidays planned, which I just wanted to enjoy without having to worry too much about the impact on my training. I picked up an Achille injury towards the second end of June and worried that it would set me back again. But I just rested it and iced it for a few days and resumed training on grass and that seemed to go away. I ran the Mad’Trail 19k again in July (1250m ascent) and improved my time from last year, finishing 5th in my age group, which I was very pleased with (an age-group podium place next year maybe?). By August, the marathon training was in full swing and I was getting into the long runs. I remembered from my London marathon training 9 years ago that getting into the 20-mile long run would take its toll on body and mind alike, and sure enough it did. By then I was training 5 days a week and trying to fit in training around family life and work, which was really challenging. But I had a goal and wanted to do everything I could to achieve it, promising myself that when it got ticked off I would just chill (more on that later!).

I started to experience issues with my left hamstring again around September time. I discussed with my coach and we decided to monitor. As it happens, I could run with it but it seemed to get worse with speed sessions. Reluctant to see a physio so close to the NYC marathon (I didn’t want to be told to ease on the training, as unwise as it may be),  I decided to resort to the old method of icing, resting and elevating and to get a sports massage to see whether this would help. That appeared to keep things in check, but I agreed with my coach to keep the last few weeks of training to easy pace, so as not to risk an injury so close to marathon day.

I was very anxious in the weeks leading to NYC. I had invested so much of my time towards that goal and frankly wasn’t sure I was ready to do all this again, should I not manage a BQ on the day. I had signed up for the Paris marathon in 2020 as a back up but wasn't sure I could face the strenuous training once more. NYC had to be it. But the more I read about the race and the route, the more I realised it would not be a stroll in the park. The bridges make NYC a pretty tough course. I had read it was not the marathon to target for a PB. I felt a bit deflated, thinking maybe I had put in all these efforts for nothing, that it would just be too hard to make a sub-3:40 on that course. And what about the jet-lag? When I ran London in 2010, I was unfortunate enough to have to fly around the Icelandic volcano ash cloud. For that reason I ended up landing in London on the Saturday afternoon to run the marathon the following morning. With the jet-lag that was far from ideal but I was so happy to have made it in time that I didn’t care. This time, for NYC, I decided to fly on the Thursday just to be able to relax for a few days before the race.

Unfortunately the family couldn’t come with me because the children were just finishing half term and I didn’t want them to start school again feeling jet-lagged. So I decided to fly solo, which in insight was probably the best possible idea given how nervous I was. I spent my first few days in NYC doing pretty much nothing apart from going to the marathon expo to get my bib (and meet Meb Keflezighi). I had also bought a book to keep me distracted and that peace and quiet was probably the best marathon prep possible. Fortunately I had visited NYC a number of times before so I didn’t feel the need to cram in any of the touristy things. I just ended up spending most of the time in my hotel room reading my book and getting everything ready for marathon day, including stitching my name to my running shirt. I did two more easy training runs in Central Park also.  On the Saturday morning Central Park was absolutely buzzing, with the volunteers being briefed and all marathoners doing their final training run. I felt elated. The trickiest part was trying to stick to my pre-marathon diet of plain pasta as I didn’t have cooking amenities. Thankfully I managed to find a take-away pasta place around the corner where I could order a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce. I got a weird look when I ordered (‘You’re sure you don’t want anything else with that?’). That’s what I had for lunch and dinner for two days in a row. Needs must.

The morning of the race was a pretty early start. I set the alarm for 4:30am as I was 20min from the marathon bus stop which was due to leave for the Staten Island start line at 5:30am. Obviously I had not slept well that night, which I think is pretty common for all runners before a big race. I just had to forget about that and hope I would mange to sleep a bit at the marathon start village (I would certainly have the time as my start was at 10:10). Everything was very well organised and I left on the bus as planned. The trip took about an hour. I didn’t really sleep on the bus, although I had my eyes closed for most of the trip.  When we got there I went to find my village (I was in the Orange wave) and managed to find a spot to lie down. I had packed ear plugs and lots of clothes to discard in a charity bin including a throw so I manage to doze off for an hour or so, which really did me good. I had set my alarm to have my usual breakfast of cereal and milk sufficient early before race start. I had planned everything very carefully as I wanted to give me the best chances.

I finally made my way to the start line and was literally buzzing with excitement. The day had finally arrived where I had to give everything I could and see what I could achieve. A cannon announces the start of the race, it was so loud it just adds to the excitement. Then it’s off over the Verrazzano-Narrows bridge. A pretty hilly bridge but in he excitement I hardly felt the incline. The view over Marathon was just breath-taking and the helicopters flying around the bridges were just the icing on the cake - I felt part of something very special! As a result I started way too fast, and found it quite hard to slow down. I knew I had to stick to my marathon pace though, for fear of burning out way before the end. I had diy’d a pace band based on the uneven splits advised by my coach. But I had started off so fast that the paceband became unnecessary and I just kept checking my Garmin to ensure I was in the pace ballpark. I had left the 3:40 behind, so I knew I was doing ok. Coach had allowed a few extra seconds for drink stations but in the end I negotiated them reasonably well and carried extra fluids on me in a fuel belt so I didn’t need to slow down.

At 14k, I started to feel the strain on my legs. My immediate thought was that it was not a good sign. I was only a third in. But I kept pushing, knowing I was realising a dream of mine by just being there. The motivational signs held by the crowds also helped. I remembered the adage that pain is temporary and kept pushing. The watch indicated I was still on track. I could also hear people cheering me on. ‘Come on, Nat’, ‘Looking strong, Nat!’, ‘Keep going, Nat’. Honestly these people who shouted my name have probably no idea of the massive impact they had on me. It really lifts you off the ground. These people didn’t know me but they still shouted my name, with this massive smile, and this was just the encouragement I needed to keep pushing. My husband had warned me that the long straight stretches would be tough (his boss had run it before), so I was prepared. But somehow they didn’t bother me. I was so focused on my goals that I was actually surprised the miles were flying by. A good place to be. The pain was there but it didn’t get worse. I just ignored it. Kept going. A lady at the start had warned me about the 59th Street Bridge. She had told me to ensure I slowed down about a mile before to conserve energy. Except I had not studied the course map enough. I had no idea what bridge that was or how far into the race it was located. I went over a bridge thinking it was that one and thought to myself ‘The really wasn’t too bad!’. Except that was not THE bridge. Many miles later I hit Queensboro Bridge and then it hit me: ‘Ah! Yes, I see it now. That’s what the lady was talking about!’. Sure enough I had not slowed down enough and going over it felt a real slog. But others were finding it tough and cracked some jokes about it and I knew we were all in the same boat and I felt this sense of belonging that was just overwhelming. We were just there having (or trying to have) fun together. What a ride. So I kept pushing and before I knew it I could see the top of the trees of Central Park in the distance.

At that point I spotted the 3:35 pacer. That was a good sign. I tried to stick with his group but I was getting quite tired by then and then I dropped one of my bottles. I had to stop and go against the runners to retrieve it (I had had a quick ‘Is it worth it?’ moment and decided it was). By the time I turned back the pacer was in the distance, and as much as I tried to catch him up, my legs just wouldn’t let me. But that was fine, I knew the 3:40 pacer was still behind me, and that was all the reassurance I needed. So I kept going towards Central Park. There was this long stretch on the street parallel to Central Park and it seemed to keep going and going and all I could think was ‘Where is the entrance? Surely it can’t be much further!!’. I knew there were a few miles left in Central Park before reaching the finish, and by that point it was getting harder and harder to stick to the pace. I could sense my running form degrading and was starting to drag my legs a bit behind me. But I kept pushing, trying to stick to that pace. Knowing that a BQ was now a possibility. I had not blown it and I just had to keep going. Finally we entered Central Park and I felt a hige sense of relief. I could almost feel the finish line although it was not in sight. But running through Central Park was a real treat. I kept pushing. Not far now. I can do it. I’ve worked hard for it. Don’t let yourself down. Just a few miles and you can stop. Eat whatever you want. Do whatever you want.

And then it happened, the finish line was in sight. I kept shuffling and before long I crossed it. I looked at my watch and felt tearful. Tears of joy. I had done it. I had achieved my dream and qualifying for Boston. It felt surreal. Like floating on a cloud. An overwhelming sense of achievements. I texted my husband to let me know and then started to receive messages of congratulations. I started the long walk to the medals and ponchos and started chatting with a fellow Canadian racer. We talked about the race, about running in general, where we both came from etc. I really love the running community. The walk to exit the race was long and a bit painful but I didn’t mind. I walked at snail pace and tried to absorb as much of the atmosphere as I could. This moment was unique, and something I would never forget.

So if you are ever considering running the New York City Marathon, here’s my advice: do it!!!

So I did. I knew it wasn’t really sensible as it was going to be my first run in a month (Strava reliably informing me that my last run had been a 8k run on 9th January). On the positive side, the beauty of Phoenix runs is that they are 6-hrs timed events, which means you can complete as many 5.275k laps as you wish. I knew I wouldn’t run a half marathon (that would have been really silly), I also knew a 10k at reduced speed may be ok but then I started to consider doing 3 laps, which would take me around the 16k mark. Just because I am a long distance runner, and running 10k felt (wrongly!) like a walk in the park. I know, that was silly, but I think I was just so desperate to run after all this time ‘off’ that I got a bit carried away. In the end I decided to play it by ear and see how I felt on the day.

The sun was shining on race day despite the downpour the day before. That really lifted my spirit and it wasn’t long before I found myself cruising along the muddy Thames Path among a bunch of other happy runners. I recognised some faces from the Phoenix race I ran on 30th December, it was nice to see these Phoenix events having their own little community of followers. I had decided to run this race very slowly, and I found myself chit chatting to another lady during the race, reflecting on how it may have been the first race ever that I had decided not to race but just run for enjoyment. And enjoying it, I certainly did. The laps didn’t feel repetitive and soul-destroying as they usually do. I focused on the scenery and other people and the kilometers passed very quickly. I made sure to stick up on sweets after each lap and have a sip of water or squash as I had decided not to carry anything with me this time - knowing I would have to stop for drinks ensured I would take it easy, so it was quite strategic. My hamstring didn’t manifest itself, which I was quite pleased about, although towards the end my adductors started to hurt a bit. When I reached the turning point for the 3rd lap I did wonder whether I had overdone it as the leg muscles felt rather tired. I just focused on my technique and keeping my pace down to take me back to my finish line.

I finish my 3 laps with a big grin on my face (it could have been the side effects of said sweets ingested on the way!). And the medal was truly awesome (a great medal will always be a strong incentive for me to sign up for a race). I did wonder whether it had been one of my most enjoyable races, and it would probably come 2nd after the Cotswolds Half Way Challenge 50k I ran last year. I think I am meant to run slow but run far, this is what my body is designed for. I still want to run Boston one day though. It may be next year, but if it’s not I’ll keep at it until I qualify for it. In the meantime I will do my best at the Edinburgh marathon and maybe do something fun run like Marathon du Medoc. I don’t want to sacrifice my love of running in pursuit of speed. Chi running in amazing places is what I now aspire to.

Happy running!

This is not ideal preparation for the Edinburgh marathon, but this is what my body needs. I still have some time ahead of me to train, and I certainly don’t want to risk a more permanent injury. Sometimes things don’t go to plan, and you just have to roll with it. So, if you find yourself in that place, how to make the most of it?

Well, first don’t dwell on it. If the injury is there it won’t go away by you just ignoring it. Sports people can be very stubborn, so driven by achievement that they don’t want to acknowledge any hurdle in your training. Especially not if you’ve been training for months and made made good progress towards your goal (an upcoming race?) and pausing your training means your goal is just slipping further away. Frustrating it is. The end of the world? Not if you don’t persist and just stop to listen to your body needs. Ultimately you don’t want to make the injury worse and risk it becoming permanent. So it is time to assess the situation and come up with a plan of action. First of all you may want to see whether cross training is an option. It depends on the type of injury and the crosstraining you are able to do. Ideally you want to be able to maintain your fitness. In my case, cycling is a possible alternative. Swimming is, also. So there is something I can do to mitigate the damage. Mentally cross training is also recommended. An injury is always a big blow, but if you can keep on exercising at least you’re still able to work towards your goal and that brings some satisfaction. So if you are physically able to cross train, the question is really about what cross training you have access to, and you have to work with what you have. In my case, because I was focusing most of my efforts on running I had cancelled my gym membership. I performed all the injury prevention/ strengthening exercises at home using just a yoga mat and a couple of dumbbells. Because I suffered an injury last year I had bought a hybrid bike to do some cross training so I had this at my disposal. However, for safety reasons I’m unwilling to cycle in the dark around my place (especially if it’s going to be in the range of an hour or longer) so that only leaves the alternative of the gym for cardio. That’s when I discovered a great app that I think is truly a wonderful solution for anyone not wanting to pay for an annual gym membership when only planning to use it randomly, called PayAsUGym. I signed up, chose my plan and that very evening I got to the gym, grabbed a towel, showed my pass and was on a bike in less time than it takes to say ‘cross training’. So no excuse not to exercise because it’a too dark or I don’t have access to a gym!

So, as you may have gathered from previous blog posts, the gym is not my preferred environment to exercise. However, it’s still about 1000% better than wallowing in self-pity on the sofa. Just look around you. Injury does occur, and can strike anyone regardless of fitness level, age, sport practiced, socio-economic factor. Even people like me who are avid adepts of Chi Running with fewer odds to get injured may still get injured. Chances are, they are some exercises you will be able to do. Even if it’s only with your upper or lower body. Or using lower impact (like running in a pool). Or with decreased intensity. Just discuss with a physio or coach before proceeding to ensure you will not be making your injury worse, setting you back even further.

At the end of the day my injury is also for me a good reminder to work at maintaining a strong body. Running itself is not enough, injury prevention exercises are a must to keep your body balanced and your gait optimal. If any injury arises, this is a symptom that something is not quite right somewhere and this needs to be addressed, don’t just ignore it.

As for me, I’m hoping to be back running (and blogging!) soon. Until then, just remember to listen to your body as it is a clever thing!

Happy running!

So off I left home around 8am on Saturday morning, with the knowledge that training had gone well, I had hit all my target times at my speed sessions and my training had been consistent. I had also done the carb loading bit as well as I could to try and correct some of the (compulsory!) Christmas excesses. The only slight issue I was aware of was some stiffness in my left hamstring, but not anything that I had deemed worth of really worrying about. That and the fact that the event had a slightly different format as it was a 6-hour fixed time event where you could complete as many 3.28-miles laps as you wanted over that time. As I needed a half-marathon race around that date as part of my training, I needed to complete 4 laps. I had previously misread the brief and thought the full laps were 6.56 miles long, which seemed much more bearable for little lap-hater-me. Regardless, the odds appeared to be on my side.

The day was warmer than I had trained in in Normandy over Christmas so I appropriately dressed down to avoid overheating and armed with my hydration pack I lined up at the start. The race started with about half a mile of pretty unpleasant muddy conditions, which prevented me from racing at my target pace. After 1k, I was 10s slower than required. That didn’t bode well. Over the next few kilometres, I’m not quite sure what happened but I was hovering just above 5min/k, so slower than I needed to be. At my previous half-marathon (see my blog post from last month on this), my problem had been that I had started the race too fast, so I was puzzled this time to find I didn’t seem to have much in the tank that early in the race.

After a few kilometres I knew there was zero chance of me achieving my target time. This was a blow but then I had to think about how to handle this. I knew I wasn’t being lazy, I just couldn’t do any more than what I was doing then. So I decided to run ‘naked’ and not bother looking at my time going forward. I was still the female lead at that point, and I tried and kept the pace up to maintain that position. At the first lap turn at 1.64 miles, the following women were still far enough, I just had to keep it that way. So I kept running. Unfortunately I couldn’t even stick to my slower pace and had to slow down even further. At each turning point I could see the next women closing in. Then eventually I was overtaken. But I knew if I wanted to complete my half-marathon I shouldn’t try to keep my place and should just accept I couldn’t keep up with them that day. I knew I was capable of being faster, just not that day. That had to be enough. So for the rest of my race I focused on the positives, the fact I was still running, the lovely route on the Thames Path, cheering on other runners or just exchanging a smile when them every time we crossed. It was odd being in a race with other people not knowing what distance each other was running. Given that it was a 6-hr fixed event, people could choose whatever distance they wanted to run. A slightly quirky twist to it was that once you had finish your distance you had to ring an old fashion bell to notify the organisers, at which point they would record your time and award you your medal. It felt strange running a half-marathon in that environment. In less than 2 hours I was done with my half and it felt like quitting when ringing that bell. A bit like when Lazarus blows the horn during the Barkley Marathons when you have DNF’d. But my training plan called for a half-marathon race and I had to be sensible. No matter how I like ultras, I needed to focus on my Edinburgh marathon goal. Once that’s done then I can think about doing more ‘fun’ things like this one.

In spite of everything I enjoyed the race. It was well organised and the runners didn’t appear to be the run-snob type (although some were pretty fast!) and happy to spare a word or smile on the way. So Phoenix, I will be back. This time, I won’t be shooting for a half-marathon PB but run the full 6-hr event for the fun of it.

Happy New Year, and happy running everyone!

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]]>My Frozen Phoenix Half-Marathon - or How to Turn a Bad Race Into a Good Onetrainingwellbeinginjury preventionNathalie Descusse-BrownWed, 26 Dec 2018 14:32:46 +0000https://www.rungineer.com/blog-1/2018/12/23/slowly-does-it5a9288481137a6fdeeb6e5ab:5ae04633758d461f5dbc4003:5c1f448d898583352e276e56It’s been a little longer than usual since my last blog post (sorry about that!), which has given me a little bit of time to reflect on my running this year. So what have I achieved this year and - most importantly - what have I learnt?

2018 started with me training with my coach Trevor for the first time, in preparation for the Cotswolds Way Challenge 50k. I learnt some fundamental things with Trevor, the first of which was that I needed to slow down for most of my runs. Frankly, I didn’t get it at first. It seemed I was just unable to do it. I had been used to running all my runs between around 5min/k and 5:30min/k for most of my life and running any slower than that just felt incredibly difficult (I had joked in the past that I had only ‘one gear’ when running). But I was after some structure for my training and Trevor had the experience so I decide to stick to the plan and trust the process. Then not long after starting training injury struck (inflammation of the sesamoids) and that prompted me to look at my technique. That’s how I came across Chi Running.

Chi Running and Trevor completely transformed my approach to running. Not only I’m now a mid foot striker and my running economy is the best it’s ever been, but most importantly I enjoy my long training runs now instead of dreading them like I did a few years back. For me they offer time for reflection, for body sensing and for appreciation on my surroundings and life big general. Running certainly doesn’t feel like a punishment, much more like a treat. And interestingly, I have managed to slow down. It happened naturally, because when you run 5 times a week and run some hard sessions then I find the body naturally gets you to slow down when it knows it doesn’t need to run fast. I have found my ‘gears’. For my long runs I’m now in gear 2. That allows me to make better use of gears 4 and 5 during tempo and interval training. And because I am more in tune with my body I can now listen to it and not just ignore what it is telling me and drive it to the ground. And it loves me back for it: now I am doing 80% of my training load at easy pace around the 5:40min/k-6:00min/k mark, I was able to achieve a half-marathon PB of 1:43:27. When I was running all my runs fast, I didn’t manage less than 1:45, and it felt much harder to achieve that time!

Running became a bit obsessive this year also. It provided a sense of certainty in my life at a time when I was questioning what I wanted out of life, what mum and wife I wanted to be and how my work and running fitted into this. I had just turned 40 last year, and although my birthday had not seemed to bother me in the slightest, it triggered a review of my life and achievements so far. One year on, I’m glad to say it worked, it helped me find myself, I have found a direction and a clear sense of what is important to me and what isn’t. There came the realisation that my priorities have changed. When I first started working aged 24 (a Master of Engineering in France takes a little bit longer than in the UK), my eyes were set on the top job (CEO). Achieving that position was my measure of success. My running ambitions were similar, although I was more realistic about what I could achieve. I don’t have the natural body type to be a fantastic runner, but I knew I could improve myself and maybe rank in the top 10 for my category in some races (I’m not talking about any of the marathon majors here!). I knew one day I wanted to finish a marathon, and I did so in 2010 over 5min under my goal of sub-4hours. My ultimate goal is to qualify for the Boston marathon. Mainly because you have to qualify for it and cannot just get a place out of luck through a ballot (like I did when I ran London). But also because its route goes through the town of Wellesley, where I lived for 18 months with my husband. Running Boston would be some sort of validation for me as a runner. And in order to qualify I know I need to run fast. Specifically I am training to run a 3:30 marathon in order to come under the Boston qualifying time of 3:40 for my age category. But once that’s done (hopefully I will achieve qualification in 2019) I will not try and beat that time. I am no longer interested in chasing PBs. However, I would love to be that V75 lady who comes first in her category at a race if I’m lucky enough to still be able to run at that old age. In order to physically do so and preserve my love of running over the years, I’m happy to just run for the love of it. That means training, occasionally racing, but also ensuring my body and mind have the time they need to recover from any challenge I set them.

Of course if I kept on training harder I may be able to shave off that minute of my half-marathon time. Maybe if I paid more attention to my nutrition I may be able to shave off another minute. But my belief is that there is a point of diminishing return. I see that race podium finish in a similar way to the CEO’s job. Getting there (and staying there) involves sacrifices. And there are sacrifices I am willing to make and some I am not. I don’t want to start beating myself up because I didn’t manage to catch that woman up during that race, I don’t want to turn down social outings on a regular basis because it interferes with my training, and I am not prepared to start weighing my food to ensure my nutrition is optimal. But I understand people who do. Ultimately I want running to fit in with my life (and I will always try my best to fit it in) and not the other way round. I don’t want to become resentful towards running, I want to look after our relationship. There will be good runs and bad runs but I will do my best so that year after year I always feel a little bit of excitement when lacing up my shoes.

I tend to be a ‘yes’ person trying to juggle everything. More annoyingly I’m a yes person to myself also (“Can I really squeeze it in? Yes of course you can!” is a regular discussion with myself). But I have promised myself that going forward I will not cram up races throughout the year (next year that’ll be the Edinburgh marathon, the following year hopefully Boston!). I’ll stick to one challenge and sprinkle a few half-marathons for good measure. And if I win a race, that will be more out of stamina than speed, like was the case for the Cotswolds Way Challenge! That may not make my blog popular, but I’m ok with that. When the kids are older then I may start doing more ultra-marathons, because I will no longer feel like I’m spreading myself too thin!

Happy running!!

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]]>performancetrainingwellbeingNathalie Descusse-BrownThu, 06 Dec 2018 07:11:03 +0000https://www.rungineer.com/blog-1/2018/12/6/why-its-ok-not-to-run-today5a9288481137a6fdeeb6e5ab:5ae04633758d461f5dbc4003:5c08c8ba898583215c1bcd88Something I read on Twitter two days ago got me thinking. It was a tweet by Dr Josie Perry that said “If you have a coach you’re less likely to get injured but more likely to overtrain.” Hmmm. Yes, I do have a coach. And he works me hard, because I set him this challenging goal to get me qualified for the Boston marathon next year. A compounding factor to this, which I have shared in previous posts, is that I am a perfectionist. And I like having a structured plan to follow. It’s just the type of person I am. Can you see where this is going?

The perfectionist in me tends to want to stick to the plan no matter what. The coach in me knows that results are achieved with consistency, which basically means that by running on a regular basis, and provided you do not get injured, you will see improvements. I still have a long way to go until I can run a 3:30 marathon, but not so much time left ahead of me. So getting on with the plan seems particularly critical. I have been fortunate that I have not suffered from an injury recently. I put it down to an improved running technique following Chi Running combined with my new found ability to actually run at easy pace and not hammer down every single run (a derived product from Chi Running also). Overall I do enjoy running and training. I have been running 5 times a week for a few months now, trying to fit it in around an otherwise busy work and family life. If I don’t feel like running for whatever reason, I still do it unless I feel physically sick.

Training is going ok in general and delivered a decent half-marathon PB in November. But I have to be honest with myself, mentally the training is starting to take its toll. I’m studying for a career change in parallel to all this, so everything is pretty full on, as I also try to spend time being a mum to my 6-yr old and 3-yr old. I have always been the hyperactive type, taking pride in being able to juggle a multitude if tasks at once. So what’s a bit of work/running/mothering/studying? The same way that I am still very bad at saying no at work (improving there though!), I am very bad at saying no to myself. But last night I did. I had a 35min easy pace run planned, but I got stuck in traffic for pretty much the full 14 miles back from work and I just wanted a night off. Last night, I didn’t drag myself out for my run. And you know what? I don’t even feel bad for it. The same way that some days your body screams for a break and you should listen to it, yesterday my mind screamed for a break from my running schedule too. Overtraining is a thing (I suffered from it when training for the London marathon in 2010, which sucked away my love of running), and something to be mindful of if you want to keep your relationship with running healthy. It’s because I love running (and myself!) that I took a break yesterday. Running will be back tonight, and I will go back to it not deflated but with a little spring in my step because absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Happy running!

The Preparation

I do run at night regularly currently, just because this is the only time I manage to fit a run in after work and putting the kids to bed. But my definition of night running is basically running after sunset around my block, which is suitably lit up with street lights. I do wear a head torch generally because some streets are better lit than others, and some pavements have roots growing through which you wouldn’t want to trip over. But this is a far cry from running in complete darkness. I have tried running on the edge of Wimbledon Common at night also, just because it felt a little bit different and exciting but it was probably a 10min job. All this to say I had done very little training specifically for that race. I had planned to do the Windmilers Darkness Dash, which conveniently fell a few days before the Maverick race, but my husband had already made plans for that night so I was stuck at home that evening. So I was really in the dark about running in the dark by the time race day arrived. Also, and very much to my surprise, I felt extremely excited with not even the tiniest sign of race nerves (a first for me).

Race Day

The race took place in Queen Elizabeth Park in Hampshire, which was a good hour drive away from home. I didn’t want to make the mistake I had made the previous week with the Windsor and Eton half-marathon and ensured I arrived an hour before the race to have plenty of time to take care of everything from registration to loo stop. By then it was starting to get dark and it was also starting to get pretty wet and muddy. I don’t know why, but somehow when I signed up I had pictured running that race in dry conditions. The part of my brain that makes me sign up for things like this is always overly optimistic and never ever pictures anything going less than perfectly. This is really only after registration, after I was asked whether I still wanted to do the ‘long’ run (there were also a 10k ‘middle’ run and 5k ‘short’ run offered as alternatives), that the penny dropped and I started to face the reality of having to run through uneven muddy grounds I was totally unfamiliar with with only my headtorch to guide my way. Hmm. I could have gone back to the dryness of my car and headed back home but I was still rather intrigued by what that race would be like. I knew there would be some hills but despite taking a picture of the elevation for Instagram purpose, I didn’t actually really look at it and I had absolutely no idea of where the hills were located and how big there were. I wonder now whether this is the kind of details that my brain intentionally blocks out, as it just didn’t occur to me to actually look at the numbers.

The atmosphere felt quite surreal. It was like a bit like going to a Christmas fair, especially seeing the beautiful cake stand where you could buy a variety of delicious-looking puddings as well as hot beverages. I would have been tempted but knew it would not have been be too wise to start the race whilst trying to digest a sticky ginger pudding. I thought I would leave it until after the race, at least then I would feel like I deserved it. I made my way to some fire pits instead, suitably located under a tree, which looked just like the right place for me given the weather conditions. A few runners had congregated there to keep warm and I started chatting with another runner who was running the 10k before heading home to get dressed up for a wedding party. I thought this was pretty typical of the sort of unconventional planning most runners are accustomed to and I suppressed a laugh thinking about our madness (I had myself spent my morning at soft play with my kids, which seem as remote as I could think of my current location).

My training plan called for a 2k warm-up, which was the last thing I wanted to do before embarking on that race but I obliged, and headed off in the darkness to get a feel for what was awaiting. I quickly got surrounded by complete darkness, albeit for an odd photo flash which caught me by surprise and reminded me that there would be some race photos provided. It got slightly eerie when I turned after 1k to find that not only I couldn’t see the registration area but I couldn’t hear a sound. It was like being lost in the woods at night with no one around. I wouldn’t say I was freaked out by it but it definitely had a strange feel to it. I got flashed on the way back to the start also and I did wonder whether it was just an automatic flash or whether an actual picture had been taken, in which case it would be the first ever race picture of me from the rear! I returned to the start just in time for the gun to go off and the sea of torch lights scattered as runners were trying to adjust to the terrain and the darkness.

The first section was not so different from any race due to the light emitted by the various torches. I certainly didn’t feel alone, I was trying not to step on anyone’s toes. But after a few kilometres, the different race routes separated and there were fewer of us left. I was annoyed that the light emitted by my torch looked blurry, which in insight may have been due to the rain or possibly a bit of fog. I just couldn’t see as sharply as when I had tried the torch near home. As the race went on, we got more separated, to the point where I found myself running on my own. It reminded me of the Cotswolds Way Challenge earlier this year where I ended up running alone also. Except it was a very different experience in the dark. I didn’t find it scary or unsettling. I found it to be a mostly mindful experience, although this feeling was regularly interrupted by me swearing because I had poorly landed on my foot and rolled my ankle. This happened a few times and each time became more painful. I did worry at some point that I may end up twisting it and grinding to a halt, which wasn’t something I wanted to face at that time of the evening and in that remote location. I decided to slow down instead and be a bit more careful about my foot placement. But by half way, my legs felt tired and unsteady. As I approached a massive puddle and took half a second too long to decide how to avoid it my foot caught the edge of something (most likely just a stone) and I found myself flying forward in a slow-motion sort of way and sliding across the muddy/stony ground. That was quite a face plant. I got up and did a quick check in only to find my hands covered in mud coloured by some blood. The cut didn’t look too bad so I didn’t really give it a second thought and plodded on. My ankle felt a little bit tender and my legs were a bit shaken by the fall. Unfortunately this had happened near the bottom of a long shallow hill. At first I didn’t think much of it but as I still couldn’t see the end of the hill after a little while and felt a bit weak I eventually switched to walking. This was probably sensible of me given what had happened but I then got overtaken by a few runners and this felt like a twist of the knife in my hand cut. Was I being a wimp?? I carried on, trying to keep up with two men but after a kilometre of two I lost them. I had been hoping to maybe catch up with some of the women who had overtaken me earlier but not to avail. The downhills were tough also. I know the theory of getting down fast but I just don’t have enough training to implement it to my benefit and didn’t really want to risk another fall so probably looked more like Bambi. I was getting tired by then, still enjoying the race but having to focus hard on my footing. And then we hit this massive hill. Most people started walking it and I was definitely not going to attempt a hilly run at that point. It seemed to go on and on… until I spotted a car park. And then some bright lights. Ugh? That looked like the finish area! I had never had a race finishing on top of a steep hill before, I had to switch to a trot as it just didn’t feel right to walk up to the finish line, no matter how tempting it was. I crossed the finish line in 1:27:02, much earlier than I had thought. Then I realised my Garmin estimated the race as 14k and not the advertised 15k I had been expecting, so my pace had not been as good as I initially thought. I ranked 65th out of 97 participants and 13th out of 22 women. But I did not think I had failed, as I had lots of respect of the runners ahead of me who seemed more experienced (and resilient!) than me.

Race Lessons

As always in a race I got a few take-aways, as follow:

1. A race in the dark is harder than you expect. Yes you have the torch but it definitely doesn’t give you the luminosity you get from day light. Just think of the difference between driving during the day and at night. Yes you may have your car lights on but you still get tired more quickly at night because your field of vision is reduced. Running in the dark has the same effect.

2. If your are not accustomed to running this type of race and it is not your ultimate year goal, do not push it. As I was rolling my ankle, all I could think of was whether I would get injured and whether this would affect my training for the Edinburgh Marathon. The risk just wasn’t worth taking, so I adapted my pace to the conditions accordingly.

3. It is a great experience, and it actually is fun! That may not come across very well in the above but I did thoroughly enjoy it. I have run lots of races over the years but nothing quite compared to that one. Although it was tough, I would definitely do something like this again at the drop of a hat. Crazy, me?

Happy running!

The Lead Up To The Race

Everything went pretty well up to about 2 days before the race. My training had been consistent, I was hitting my goal paces at the speed sessions, and was feeling generally strong. 2 days before the race I moved to a strict carb loading diet prescribed by my coach (see sample below!). I wasn’t sure how fast I could go but was hoping to beat my previous 2011 BC (Before Children) half-marathon PB achieved at the New York City Half-Marathon of 1:45:02. I knew it was a challenge but I decided to trust the process and based on my time at the recent Cabbage Patch 10 Miles and the race strategy suggested by my coach I thought it was maybe possible to run something around 1:43-ish. I was just slightly concerned by the fact I had agreed to run with water only, and no gels or anything similar, in order to test my capacity to use my glycogen stores. I knew I should be managing without additional carbs during a half marathon if my pre-race nutrition had been good, but in reality I don’t think I had ever run a half-marathon without them, so I was a bit less confident, like my secret weapon had been taken away from me.

Then everything went crashing on Thursday night this week when I started to feel feverish and plain unwell. I was due to go for a short run and knew that was the wrong thing to do. I decided to sleep it off and hoping the next day would be brighter. I had a terrible night and woke up a total mess. I wasn’t even able to drop off my son at school and had to send my husband instead. I had to get up to look after my daughter but felt like a zombie. The half-marathon at that point looked like a DNS (ultrarunning jargon for ‘Did Not Start’, and an acronym I don’t like to use too often!). But I looked after myself that day and kept up with the carb loading diet just in case there was a slight chance I would be well enough to run. I took a multi-vitamin, had an orange juice, and made sure to keep very well hydrated all day. By the evening, I was looking much more presentable (hell, I had even managed to shower!), so the race looked like a possibility.

Race Day

The race was a pretty early start of 8:30am, which meant an early start at 5:30am to cook myself some porridge and down some toasts with jam before returning to bed out of sheer laziness until about 6:30am. The race was about a 45min drive and I wanted to get there in time to use the loo and do a 15min warm-up run. I got there in what looked like reasonable time, but once out of the registration queue I had to queue for a good 20min for the loo (I unwisely opted for the indoor toilet, which sounded like a more comfortable solution for someone in need). By the time I was done, it was 8:30am, so there was no time left to queue for the bag drop so I left my bag unattended in the changing rooms after shoving both IPhone and keys into my hydration vest. Sure enough, my warm-up was reduced to none. Being stressed out because you’re out of time and rushing to the start is never the best way to start a race, and thankfully something that no longer happens to me too frequently. But that day I cursed myself for not having left home 30min early. One really positive thing that came out of that loo queue was overhearing a lady saying that it was her first half-marathon and she was really nervous. You will find out further down below how I managed to use this to my (mental) advantage during the race.

The slightly rush start may explain why I started off my race so quickly. I just felt relieved to have made the start line before the gun shot, and the adrenaline fueled me for the first few kilometres. The may in insight also explain why by doing so I forgot one of the fundamentals of endurance running. By going too fast during the first lap, I had depleted my glycogen stores faster than necessary. I should have been running at a pace of between 4:50min/k to 4:55min/k and my first 5 splits were in the region of 4:40min/k. By the time I finished the first lap, the thought of quitting entered my mind. It was a tough time, because I knew I had 3 laps to go and I knew how long they were and mentally it was soul-destroying. I had to find strategies to deal with these thoughts, and the first thing that entered my mind was that my son knew I was racing that morning, and the thought of coming home to him with no medal to show for it just filled me with disappointment and sadness. That temporarily shup up the negatives thought. However, after 2 laps, I really started to struggle to stick to my pace. I was checking my splits and they started to shift to 5:00 to 5:05min/k and I didn’t seem to have the energy to speed up. I entered the damage mitigation phase. I had probably used up my glycogen stores due to my fast first lap, and was now paying the price for it. The thought of quitting intermittently entered my mind again near the start of lap 3 but it was easier to brush off because it seemed a bit silly to quit after 3 laps with just over 1 to go. I found two mental strategies that seem to really work for me. The first one was to pay attention to the other people in the race and specifically the ones who were struggling. I focused on the fact that some people out there were running their first marathons. I remember that lady in the loo queue, and I started to feel very good about my own ability, and that prompted me to cheer on a few people who I saw struggling. I specifically remember cheering on a lady named Catherine, who had her name printed on her shirt. I remembered how I had felt when strangers had shouted my name during the London Marathon and I hoped she would get the same boost from my cheering. What I didn’t expect by doing so is that I got an equally big boost and noticed I managed to speed up a bit after passing anyone I cheered. Funny (and beautiful!) how the mind works, isn’t it! Another mental strategy I found useful whilst running laps, bearing in mind my hate of laps, was visualisation: from lap 2, I pictured myself running through the exact same spot one lap later and visualised how it would feel to know there was just one lap left or that it was the final lap. Both these strategies kept me going and allowed me to maintain a slower but steady pace and most importantly kept any further thoughts about quitting at bay. I will be honest though, I still had visions of crawling on all four across that finish line, I was that battered (mentally, physically, or both, I still don’t know), and it took all I had to maintain that pace. I became so desperate to reach that finish line that, with about 1k to go, I no longer cared about my time, I just wanted to cross that damn line!

As expected I did eventually reach the end, and was delighted when I looked at my watch to see a time of 1:43:27. I had done it and beaten my pre-kids PB by a whooping 1 min and 35 seconds! Given that my last half-marathon time in September was 1:50:18, I was over the moon. I also placed 6th in my category, which I was pretty pleased with. Somehow it didn’t matter that I had somehow lost the ability to walk (I hobbled back to the changing room as snail speed because somehow my legs no longer seem to want to carry me and I had this massive pain in my left glute which had started as soon as I had stopped running). There was no goodie bag at the finish line, which I was not expecting so I had not taken anything with me and was starving by then. I didn’t have card or cash with me because I thought I would use my phone but the Waze app on the way to the race had drained my battery so I panicked when I approached the Costa stall to buy a banana with only 1% battery left. Had my phone died before I was able to pay for it, I honestly think I would have cried. Thankfully I managed to pay for my banana just in time. There was a massage stall, and given the state of my body I would have killed for a massage but I knew my phone would not last long enough to pay for one so I had to give that a miss and embrace the pain. On the plus side I managed to find someone to quickly take a picture of me in front of the Lake before the IPhone gave up, so at least I got a souvenir.

Race Lessons

I have said in a previous blog post that you can learn from any race, and this time was no exception. Here are my take-aways…

1. Arrive early for a race. Aim to be there an hour before the start. Even if you think this is not necessary, you will be glad you did. Especially if you are a lady, don’t underestimate how long you will have to queue for the loo.

2. Don’t start too fast. Seriously, I have said it before in previous blog posts and I can’t even remember it for myself. But this is key. You should know what your race pace is (just use a pace calculator like the McMillan Running calculator) and don’t try to run a half-marathon at your 10k pace, it just won’t work.

3. Find your mental strategies. What works for one person will not work for another, so you will need to experiment. Anything that gets rid of the negative thoughts is a winner, just make sure you use them!

4. Cheer on other people if you can, thank the marshals and high five the kids cheering on the side of the road. It costs nothing to you but will make their day! You’re even likely to get a little spring in your step for it.

5. Make sure you take cash with you. You never know when you might need it but if a massage is on offer you will be glad to be able to afford it when your muscles are screaming in pain. Or you can use it to buy a beer, whatever works for you!

Happy running!!

So here are all my running highs and lows over the years, all in a nice chronological order…

1. Running the Paris Cross du Figaro Junior (high)

My dad used to do lots of running, and was a regular at the Paris Marathon, but another one of his favourite races was the Cross du Figaro. Organised by the French newspaper Le Figaro, it is an annual cross country race held in West Paris. I remember running it covered in mud (I think the muddy conditions were part of the experience, at least that’s how I saw it at the time). One particularity I specifically remember was that the results were announced a few days later in the newspaper with a special insert and I recall spending a bit of time sieving through the pages with my dad to try and spot our names. I had fond memories of what was my introduction to running.

2. Not particularly enjoying running at school (low)

I remember not being very skilled at any sport at school. I tried different ones, but I was too shy to really join in the team sports (so I would always avoid touching the ball in case I messed up, which invariably resulted in me messing up, so a self-fulfilling prophecy). I remember being pretty much terrible at athletics and my PE teacher looking up the grading table and me not even fitting in the low category. That was my sports career over before I started. I was tall but still hopeless at sprinting. So long distance running should have been the obvious choice but I found it very hard work. I just didn’t have the stamina. That didn't overly worry me at the time, I just accepted the fact that I had no great future in sport. Skiing was probably the one I was best at but there was never any hope of me winning an Olympic medal there either. However, I remember a school-wide competition when I was about 16 or so. There was this boy I wanted to impress and he was a fast runner so I decided to go for it and I think I finished 11th. I remember feeling like throwing up afterwards but thinking it had been well worth it. Unfortunately that hadn’t been enough to impress the boy!

3. Taking up running more regularly as a student (high)

I don’t really know why I picked up running again when a student. I don’t think I did it very frequently, but I do remember going for 30min-ish runs at the weekend when I was in my first year in Marseilles and studying engineering. And then again when moving to Edinburgh as an Erasmus student, trying to go up Arthur’s Seat before giving up thinking it was way too hilly.

The seed must have been planted for me to randomly start running again in the middle of the excitement of student life.

4. Upping the running in Wimbledon (high)

I remember running laps of a local park on my own when I first moved to Swindon. That didn’t last long. I didn't find much enjoyment in running in the city. However when I had the opportunity to move to South West London a few years later I ensure I picked a location where I would enjoy running. Wimbledon Common just looked like the perfect spot.

I then met my boyfriend, who was to become my husband, and we started running together at the weekend pre-breakfast. It seemed like a nice thing to be doing, although we were both competitive and I remember only one occurrence where I beat him during a race.

4. Training for the London Marathon in Boston (high and low)

We moved to Boston, Massachusetts, in 2009. Ironically this is the year I received the ‘You’re In’ magazine from the London Marathon, after about 3 consecutive years of applying for the ballot. Running a marathon was something I had been wanting to do not only because my dad had done it but also more specifically because he suffered from a stroke in 2005, which left him disabled, and that made running a marathon something even more special in my eyes, like a way to continue what he had started. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to run London in 2010, so I started to train in the harsh Boston winter, on ice and snow, and logged some painful miles on the treadmill in the gym after work when it felt just too dark and creepy to run outside. My record is 10 miles on the treadmill, a record I vouch never to break - ugh, that was dull! Training for the London Marathon had the bonus side effect of getting me into half-marathons, which is still to this day my favourite road race distance (because the training required doesn’t take over your life like for a marathon).

I had some nice training runs around Wellesley, Needham and around Lake Waban. But as the marathon approached the long runs became longer and I remember my husband joining me for half the distance and then heading home. This was a mental breaker. Towards the end of my training, I was pretty much done with running. Marathon training had sucked the love out of running for me. I was going to run London, have a nice running break and then focus on half-marathons only afterwards.

5. Running the London Marathon (high)

The London Marathon finally got closer and I was satisfied I had done all the training and really pretty happy to start tapering and not have to face yet another 3hr long training run. My husband and I were due to land in London on Friday afternoon, giving me the whole Saturday to get over the jetlag and rest. Perfect plan. But flawed, thanks to Grimsvotn, the Icelandic volcano, that decided to cause havoc around that time. Fast forward and after much speculation about whether we would be able to fly at all we arrived in London on Saturday afternoon. I was pretty shattered, but so happy to have made it to London and be able to run so just had an early dinner and early night and hoped for the best.

I woke up on Sunday morning after a decent night sleep and very excited about running my first marathon. I had no injury, I felt good. The weather was pretty cool and I shivered on the starting line amidst the showers but that made for pretty ideal running conditions. Based on my training I thought I could break 4 hours, so anything under 3:59:59 was a win. The start was pretty crowded and I couldn’t stick to my pace for the first mile or two but after that I managed to get into a rhythm and draw energy from the fabulous crowds. I was running in support of Cancer Research UK and had my name printed on my shirt, and it was amazing to see total strangers cheering me on. I felt so grateful to be part of this. I followed my nutrition (mainly a mix of gels and jelly beans) and hydration (a mix of water and my homemade isotonic drink) plan to a tick, I stuck to my splits (spelt out by my wrist band) and everything went incredibly smoothly. I never hit the wall and felt energised towards the end to know I was getting so near to the finish. When I saw the photographer in the last mile or so I just had a massive grin on my face. I crossed the finish line in 3:54:46, a time I was delighted with for my first marathon! I couldn’t easily go up or down the stairs or sit on the loo afterwards but it had been all so worth it!

6. Meeting Roger Wright (high)

When living in Boston, my husband and I joined the Needham Boston Sports Club. It had everything we could wish for including an indoor swimming pool, and fancy exercise bikes where you could select the scenery (a definite plus for me who hates the exercise bike with a passion). The club had just set up a running club and we decided to join it. That’s where I met Roger Wright, and found out about his story. Roger was 47 and weighing 276.7 pounds when he decided to try out running in 2008 with the goal to follow his dad’s foot steps and run the Boston Marathon. The following year, he achieved his goal by running non stop and crossing the finish line in 4:45. But that was only the start of his running journey. I met Roger the following year, in 2010, and by then he not only had got to a very healthy weight but he had also a number of marathons. His enthusiasm for running was obvious and he and his lovely wife, Mary, became good friends, who we try to meet up with whenever our travel plans allow. Roger is one of the people I look up to in the running world and it shows that you don’t have to be an elite athlete to be a source of inspiration to other people. Check out his website RFME (Running For My Existence), I am sure you will take something away from it!

7. Touring the US to run half-marathons (high)

I’ve previously said that one of the things I like most about running is the fact that you can pretty much do it anywhere. So hubby and I decided to take it to the letter when we were living in the US and used running as an excuse to do a bit of touring. We looked up list of half-marathons and booked our weekends away around these. That took us to Washington DC, New York City, Denver, Las Vegas. We particularly enjoyed Denver and Las Vegas because the races were part of the RocknRoll series and these guys know how to put on a good show (literally, as they had lined up Semisonic and Brett Michaels from Poison)!

All that was achieved before we even had children! The post-children story will be for another time, as I have found lots of running new highs since (and I am probably fitter now than I was then).

Chances are, your own running journey will also be full of highs and lows. You have to be able to embrace the lows to really appreciate the highs (and those get pretty high!!). There will be times where lacing up your shoes just sucks. But keep at it, there is a big bright sunshine awaiting you at the end of the tunnel!

Happy running!

Why Do People Get Into Ultra-Marathons?

There is a variety of reasons why people get into ultra-marathons. For my part, I think the trigger was feeling both stressed out and frustrated at work and needing an outlet that would take me outdoors and give me a sense of freedom. The thought of something that would challenge me whilst being in total control of my training, my race, and not having to rely on other people in order to achieve my goal was probably instrumental in my choice of the Cancer Research UK (CRUK) Tough 10k in Box Hill. The fact that it was classified as ‘Toughest’ in CRUK terminology made it even more appealing to me. Only a 10k, I hear you say? Yes, but it was a 10k with a twist. It really had all the flavour of a ‘mini-ultra’: no PB territory (because of the elevation profile), lots of stairs to start with (so involved some walking, which I had always fought fiercely in any race with the premise that if I walked I had to quit the race as I didn’t deserve to then cross the finish line), scenic route all the way, and most importantly some nice banter amongst runners (which I don’t remember ever experiencing during a road race). It was without a doubt the hardest 10k I had ever run. What? No! It was the hardest RACE I had ever done (including number of half-marathons and marathons). The thing is, it must have done something to my brain because the following evening is when I decided to sign up for the Action Challenge Cotswolds Way Challenge 50k.

But what exactly had happened for me to want to do a 50k run with a 1250m total ascent? There are a few reasons why I and other people get drawn into ultra-running, as identified in this PhD thesis by Joshua Justin Cook (University of Arkansas, Fayetteville) on The Relationship Between Mental Health and Ultra-Running (a good read if you have the time):

1. There is a strong ultra-running social community

   To me, this was a trigger. Running, and especially ultra-running is not something everyone ‘gets’. Very often when I explain I have to go on my training run or cannot drink that night because I have a race the next day, I am met by a confused look. But explain this to running friends and they immediately get it. Real love of running is something ultra-runners have in common (otherwise, why would they put themselves through this?!!!), and having completed one ultra-marathon and training for another (longer) one next year makes me identify as an ultra-runner with pride. I love the fact that the environment is not competitive as such. During an ultra-race, runners are more likely to share their plasters with you than to elbow you out of the way. To me, this is very conducive to enjoyment. So yes, I do enjoy the fact that running is a solitary activity but I equally enjoy feeling part of a big community where we can share experiences, joys, fears, disappointments and just plainly talk about running without risking boring everyone.

2. Being outdoor for hours on end feel good

   Being out in nature has been shown to be beneficial to mental health. I find that although I grew up in urban Paris, now I am in my early 40s I am much more drawn to the countryside, which is why trails have become my favourite (running) playground. There is something just magical about being alone on a trail, hearing the sounds of nature (remember, I don’t run with music, so I feel very connected to my running environment!). It’s always a very mindful time. Somehow it slows down my churning brain and takes away my worries. It also seems to diminish the size of problems drastically (probably to the size they should have been in the first place, as I am a bit of a worrier).

3. Ultra-running requires structure and discipline

   I have always been person who likes a lot of structure. I like my to-do lists, I like a tidy house, a tidy car, having the laundry done and put away. My husband jokes at the fact that I need to empty my suitcase away the very moment we are home from a holiday. This is true. I like order in my life. However, since having kids, I have found that order cannot be maintained. Kids create (positive!) chaos in your life the way you only know when you have them. But the constant need to be flexible with your plans, to accept the house cannot be kept constantly tidy (neither do I want it to be as I want my children to be able to freely play with their toys until it’s tidy-up time), to accept that you are no longer in control of everything, is something difficult for someone like me. Running a lot helps me regain some of the control in my life. I have a running coach, he gives me a training plan, I try my best to stick to it and it feels GOOD!

4. It provides a challenge and consecutive reward when completed

   There is a thrill in knowing you’re doing something tough and different, something that other people may consider insane, and completing it. There is a theory that this challenge ultra-runners are setting themselves may in some instances be in response to some frustration in their life. I previously mentioned that around the time I started to consider running an ultra-marathon I was feeling stressed out and deeply frustrated at work. Setting myself a challenge I could have control over, and completing it, gave me a huge sense of achievement, and set a precedent for me. I just had to try and push this further, which is why I subsequently signed up for a 100k event.

What The Mind Does During An Ultra-Marathon

I was also interested in understanding what happens on the psychological side DURING an ultra-marathon. Although I have run one, I couldn’t tell you where my mind wandered over that time. It must have gone somewhere over the course of 7 hours, but apart from remembering the feeling of desperation at feeling dehydrated and still kilometers away from the refuelling stop, I cannot recall a thing. I was just there, enjoying the experience, “in the flow”. So I was interested to read about a progression in the state of mind of the runners during an ultra. I strongly suspect the psychology of a 50k ‘short’ ultra is very different from the psychology of a 100k or 100 miler ultra as running through the night in a tired state would likely feel much tougher. Also a number of ultra-runners running such distances reported experiencing hallucinations at night, so that’s a very different territory. Research on the psychological side of ultra-running is still in its infancy though, and it will be interesting to see what we find out in the future.

What To Consider If You Want To Run An Ultra

The first thing to acknowledge if considering running an ultra is that it plainly is going to be tough. If you are serious about wanting this, then you will still need to work on your mental toughness as it has been shown to be a key factor in ultrarunning - even if you think of yourself as mentally tough, it won’t do any harm to train your mind further, as it will give you further ability to cope with anything the event may throw at you (and quite a few things can go wrong over the course of an ultra, extreme fatigue being one of them). You will need to experiment with mental strategies, and see which ones work best for you. But honestly, if you’re ever remotely entertaining the thought of getting into ultras, just give it a try. A 50k may be a good entry point, although if you have run a marathon already you may want to go all the way to 100k (I am actually currently coaching a runner who has only completed 10k races and is training for his first 100k race without even trying for a marathon first - thankfully he has a little bit of time ahead to train for this, but I wouldn’t recommend this to just anyone).

If you are an ultra-runner, I would love to hear whether any of the above resonates with you, or whether there are other reasons you got into ultras, and also what mental strategies you find most useful. If you are not yet an ultra-runner but considering it, I would love to hear from you to to understand why you are contemplating it, so get in touch!

Happy running!

What Is Speedwork And What Are The Benefits?

Speedwork is a broad term that describes any workout where you push yourself to run faster than your easy pace (where you can hold a conversation). It covers anything from a higher aerobic pace (say, your marathon pace) to working out in the anaerobic range (if you want to understand the difference between working out in the aerobic range and in the anaerobic range, this article gives a pretty simple but good explanation).

Now, why should you be interested in doing any speedwork? Speedwork has two main benefits: it increases your aerobic capacity, and it also helps optimise the use of your glycogen stores (pretty essential for longer distances as it means you can go further before hitting the wall). It also helps training your fast-twitch muscles, which will be mobilised when your slow-twitch muscles have had enough. You can find further details on these various aspects in this very good post.

What Are The Different Types Of Speedwork?

There are a variety of types of speedwork, and they all have slightly different purposes.

Fartlek:

The name comes from Sweden, where it means “speedplay“. As the name suggests, it is not a structured workout, but about having a bit of fun when running faster. You can pick a point in the distance and run hard until you reach that point, then recover with a recovery jog and then repeat further down your route. It’s a nice way for runners new to speedwork to ease into it.

Tempo:

Tempo is defined as a run at a given target pace, but that pace can vary from aerobic pace to anaerobic threshold depending on your race distance. For example, if training for anything above a 10k you are better off doing a tempo training run in the aerobic zone. For shorter races like 5k or less you may want to perform your tempo run at your lactate threshold (or anaerobic threshold) so this will be performed at a faster pace.

Intervals:

Usually intervals will be repeats of shorter distances like 200m to mile repeats at much faster pace like 5k pace or above. The main difference with tempo and fartlek is that they include recovery breaks in between repeats. The length of the breaks can vary depending on the distance but are typically in the order of 1 to 2 minutes.

When Should I Be Doing Speedwork?

Speedwork should preferably be introduced after a solid endurance (aerobic) base has been gained. This is not only to prevent injury but also because any large and frequent increases in lactic acid (as encountered if including significant speedwork in your programme) will damage the mitochondria and aerobic enzymes produced during your base training and necessary to an efficient aerobic energy system.

What Pace Should I Be Running My Speed Workouts At?

As mentioned above the pace of your speedwork will depend on your race distance, which will dictate whether you need to train in the aerobic or anaerobic range.

Anything above 10k should incorporate most training in the aerobic range (including tempo runs close to lactate threshold, i.e. at about 10k race pace), whilst for 5k or less shorter intervals in the anaerobic range will be more beneficial.

For a guide of training paces, see the McMillan calculator.

Happy running!

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]]>Speedwork, the Necessary Evil to Performance - Benefits, Timing and Pacingtrainingperformanceinjury preventionwellbeingNathalie Descusse-BrownTue, 23 Oct 2018 20:33:51 +0000https://www.rungineer.com/blog-1/2018/10/22/how-chi-running-helped-me-and-can-help-you-become-a-better-runner5a9288481137a6fdeeb6e5ab:5ae04633758d461f5dbc4003:5bcde1ef9140b756452e4d58You may be a beginner and don’t really know where to start. Or you may be a seasoned running athlete with reasonable PBs, but find yourself prone to injuries that have a serious impact on your training calendar.

I myself started looking into Chi Running when I was training for my ultra marathon this year. I was particularly concerned that my increased mileage may eventually lead to injury and I wanted to reduce the likelihood of this happening. I also wanted to run my 50k strong, and in order to do this improving my running economy was essential. A Chi Running workshop was advertised by one of my go-to shops, Run and Become, and it promised to help me do just that.

See, at the beginning of this year, I came to the realisation that, although I had been running for over 30 years, I had never been taught HOW to run. I had first been focused on speed (the enthusiasm of the youths!) and then on distance (moving on in my 30s from regular 5ks to 10ks, then half-marathons and finally marathon), but never did I ever consider modifying my running technique until I signed up for the Cotswolds Way 50k Challenge.

What is Chi Running?

Chi Running is a simple running technique based on T’ai Chi principles and founded by Danny Dreyer which focuses on both mind and body and aims at using both in an optimal way to achieve greater enjoyment, reduce our risk of injury and improve running economy.

Chi Running is based on a number of principles simple to understand.

The first and base principle of Chi Running is this of alignment and relaxation. By alignment, we mean an optimal posture that minimises the work that our muscles, tendons and ligaments have to do to keep us standing and makes the best use of the support provided by our skeleton. Only once we get this right then can we start moving in an economical way.

Two other fundamental principles are the principle of central movement and cooperation with force. We use these two principles by using a slight forward lean, which brings our centre of gravity forward and makes use of gravity to generate movement. Nothing too fancy but using the laws of physics to our advantage.

But gravity is not the only force we encounter whilst running. There is a reaction force, and this comes from the road itself, or whichever surface we are running on. We need to make the best use of that force to help us move forward, and not let it go to waste.

Body sensing and mindfulness are two other principles of Chi Running, which are also key to both injury prevention and enjoyment. As we all learn something new with practice, body sensing will allow us to fine tune our technique by regularly checking in with our body on what feels right and what doesn’t. For example if standing requires too much effort then we can conclude with great certainty that our body is not aligned and relaxed and we can work on correcting this.

Of course it’s not easy to change (bad) habits, and you cannot expect to change your running technique in a week. Chi Running is also based on the principle of gradual progression. As the name suggest you shouldn’t rush change. Change one thing at a time and build up on it. Only once you relearn how to walk will you be able to run with less effort. It will require practice and repetition, and realistically it will probably take between 4 and 6 months to reap the rewards. I myself made that mistake of trying to change my technique overnight and found it pretty much impossible to try and apply all the components in my runs, so impatience got the better of me and I didn’t put significant efforts into the Chi Running technique. Until something forced me to reconsider, that is.

How Chi Running helps decreasing the likelihood of injury

There are different reasons why we get injured, but a large number of them can be linked up to poor running technique combined with weakness somewhere in the body (the second usually being at the origin of the first). In the case of beginners, as I have frequently encountered whilst leading Couch to 5k programmes, injury will take a matter of weeks or even days to appear and as I find it commonly is either in the form of knee pain (see my previous blog post on this topic), IT band problems or shin splints. These issues are very common with beginners as beginners have been shown to be more likely to be injured than more experienced runners. In many cases it can be traced back to a weakness in the glutes (very common there also, even in experienced athletes) and other core muscles. So I won’t lie and tell you that changing your running technique by itself will get rid of all your niggles, but that in COMBINATION with strengthening and conditioning is very likely to keep you healthier for longer.

As for experienced runners? Well, they can also benefit in a big way. In my case I had always been a very heavy heel striker. I did have a significant overstride, and that leading straight leg landing heavily on the heel was most certainly going to lead to injury when increasing mileage. But what REALLY got me looking into my technique was having to stay clear from running for a full 5 weeks just a few months before my ultra due to inflammation of the sesamoids (some small bones close to the big toe, which to that day I didn’t even know existed), diagnosed via MRI and affecting both feet. Something had to change. I progressively returned to running but then my other nemesis, which I had struggled with on and off over the years, came back: the dreaded Morton’s Neuroma. For anyone who has ever experienced it you will know that the pain can become agonising. I started to feel it in my runs around the 8k mark. It was April at the time and my ultra was in June. Given I had just had to take 5 weeks off running because of the sesamoids, I refused to let the Morton’s Neuroma set me back further. I changed shoes, got some custom insoles, but still the pain was insufferable. I was considering getting steroid injections to get me through. But then I remembered the Chi Running workshop tips and noticed straight away that the pain was much less if I altered my technique slightly. This was the prompt that really got me working on my Chi Running technique, and over the next few months running did start to feel more enjoyable although I didn’t realise what the cause was at the time.

But this is just one very specific example of how Chi Running can help. Obviously every runner is different with different techniques, strengths and weaknesses, but Chi Running is a generic technique which can benefit all as it doesn’t force anything as such - quite the opposite.

How Chi Running can help improving running economy

It was a trip to a specialist shop, Profeet, that helped me link the dots together and gave me a clearer picture of what had happened over the past 6 months. After the Run and Become Chi Running workshop in January, I had followed up with a 1-2-1 session with the Chi Running instructor, who video’d me and gave me some feedback on my technique. In his own words “In the video you push off with the calves go upward and then over stride and land on quite a straight leg. This is pretty high impact. From the back view you can see the hips dip as you land. This is probably causing the IT band tightness. “ Right, so there I was thinking I had the perfect technique, only to be told that I was running with a hip dip (also known as pelvic drop), hence bringing my knee in (not so good for the knee in the long run), and landing on a straight leg. Given that the force experienced by a runner can amount up to 3.5 x our body weight I could only think of “ouch” when I read my report.

Fast forward 6 months and there I am at the Profeet shop, trying not only to find a running shoe that will not make my toe nails fall off but also pretty curious about their new biomechanics analysis tool, and what it would tell me about my technique. I knew I was running stronger than 6 months before but wasn’t sure whether it was solely due to my coach’s plan (it was certainly a big part of it) or whether my technique had significantly improved. So I jumped on the treadmill with much excitement and got quite a lot of interesting feedback. Not only the pelvic drop seemed to have disappeared completely, but I had turned into a mid foot striker with no overstride. I was also able to pick up my feet much quicker. All in all, this made me a pretty economical runner. Not to say that my technique is now perfect (I went overboard with the lean and need to straighten up a bit to improve my running economy further) but it’s pretty decent compared to the elite athletes they tested with that tool, so good for me! Bear in mind it is pretty difficult (dare I say, impossible) to achieve the ‘perfect’ technique. The risk is by trying to achieve this Holy Grail you start modifying something that works otherwise pretty well and introduce some additional issues. For example my slightly suboptimal lateral force in particular, is something I am happy to leave with given that pretty much everything else seems to be working ok.

So to say that my running economy is entirely attributable to my change of technique would be erroneous. The strengthening and conditioning prescribed by my coach was instrumental in that respect because without stronger glutes I would have been unable to refine my technique.

How Chi Running can help enjoy running more

We’ve seen how Chi Running can help you reduce the likelihood of injury and improve running economy. As you get injured less frequently and require less effort to run that specific pace you will be able to enjoy it more and focus on the scenery instead of that tightness in your hamstring/calf/quad/ankle (delete as appropriate)!

One thing I advocate in conjunction with Chi Running is dropping the GPS for a truly mindful experience (see my previous blog post on this). It’s not always possible, especially when you are training like me for a specific marathon target time, but if you are able to run ‘naked’ even once a week I can almost assure you that you will fall in love with running all over again.

So I hope the above had triggered your interest in finding out what Chi Running can do for you. There is no gimmick in that technique, just a common sense approach combined with some specific tips to improve your technique and make you the best runner you can be. I am now in the process of certifying as a Chi Running instructor and am planning to start offering workshops and 1-2-1 in the New Year in the Wimbledon/Putney area. In the meantime if you have any general or specific questions about Chi Running, please feel free to drop me a line and I will be happy to help.

Happy (Chi) Running!

10 miles is not something overly common as a race distance, and I have mainly focused on half-marathons in the past few years (with the exception of my ultra this year). That also means I don’t have a big track record in that distance, which in some way you would think takes some of the pressure away.

However, I am currently training to achieve a Boston-qualifying time at next year’s Edinburgh marathon (there, I’ve said it - glups!), and I have started training towards that goal with my Wimbledon Windmilers’ Coach Trevor De Silva. And Trevor made it clear the Cabbage Patch 10 would be an early test for our grand plan. I embraced the challenge when he said it. What I didn’t know, is the time he had in mind.

The Lead Up to the Race

After the Campus Run Academy camp, my legs felt heavy for a good few days (they had worked hard!). Trevor’s plan called for an 11k run on Tuesday including speed work and 45min run on Thursday. I normally follow the plan religiously, but as I had overdone it over the weekend, I deviated from it and only did an 11k run on Tuesday with no speed work that week, as I wanted to ensure I had fresh legs for the race.

One of my colleagues who was running the Cabbage Patch 10 that weekend also asked me whether I wanted to meet up at the start and run with him and another colleague. He was aiming to run a 5min/k pace. I responded yes to meet up at the start but I really wasn’t sure I would be able to keep up.

Then on Tuesday night, coach Trevor e-mailed me to give me my race place. He said to aim for 1:17, equivalent to a 4:50min/k. 4:50min/k? I immediately realised that the only time I had ever been able to run that pace was over a 5k race (actually I just found out at the time of writing this blog post that I had done it once over a 10k race 4 years ago, something my brain had clearly discarded as a once-off/never-to-be-achieved again kind of thing). This one was 10 MILES!!! There was absolutely no way I could sustain that pace over 10 miles. My first reaction was sheer panic and then shortly after I replied to Trevor, saying I thought it was frankly unrealistic as I had never run that pace over 10k (even before kids), let alone 10 miles. So he kindly revised the estimate down slightly to a pace of 5min/k, still trying to push me as much as possible.

Fighting My Race Demons

I spent the remainder of the week thinking about the race, and started to wonder what time I could realistically achieve. I thought 1:20 may be possible. If I could race with my colleagues then I would have pacers and I started to think maybe it was possible to stick to that pace, although I still wasn’t convinced.

As the days passed and the race approached, I starting to feel more and more nervous. I always suffer from race nerves, but I never really went to a race with a very specific time in mind. Also I tend to be a bit conservative with estimated race times, so I don’t get disappointed by setting myself too challenging a target.

I have intentionally slowed down my easy runs recently as I had always run them too fast. Also, my ultra generally slowed me down. That meant I had no real idea of how fast I could run. My recent half-marathon time was just over 1:50, which was ok, but still only a 5:14min/k. A 10 mile race is only 5k shorter, and to go from 5:14min/k to 4:50min/k felt like a real stretch. It’s not like I had run my half at leisurely pace.

But then a few days before the race, I remembered specific passages from the last book I read by Deena Kastor, ‘Let Your Mind Run’. If Deena had not challenged the little voice in her head that doubted her, she would probably never have reached her running potential. Also I remember the talk from Mark Rohan on mental toughness at The Campus’ camp, and the wise words from Susie, Lily and Shaun. So I started to question what was the real hurdle to me running a 4:50min/k 10 mile. Was it physical? Probably not. If my coach had set me that time, it’s probably because he thought that was possible. I had also managed a quick leg turnaround during the speed workout at last week’s running camp. So, why not? Then the realisation came that what was stopping me was purely lack of confidence in my abilities. I always find it very difficult mentally to push myself at the start of a long race. I can only think of the double digit number of kilometers that’s left ahead of me. If I run fast now, what will be left at the end? Most likely nothing, and I may even have to stop and walk. But is that the reality? Probably not. It’s all psychological. I know that endurance sport is a lot about endurance training, but I also know it is even more so about mental toughness: your mind will give up long before your body does. And that’s why it’s important for performance to train that mind of ours to be more resilient.

So I decided that I would try my utter best at that race, push my body as far as it let me. Although I now like running GPS-free, I wanted to know what pace I was racing so set up my watch to give me my 5k splits. I also set up my watch to give me an alert if my heart rate was exceeding 190bpm. Usually my heart rate never exceeds about 183bpm during hard workouts but I wanted to make sure that if I was going to experiment with my body during the race, I would not be taking it into the danger zone. If I managed to stay below that limit then I knew my body could handle whatever pace I was at.

Race Day

I arrived early on race day, pretty nervous and not too pleased with the weather (pouring) but knowing I had some friends and colleagues running it too so at least there would be some friendly faces to take my mind off the race pressure. My Campus Run friend Kelly was there, although our friend Michelle had had to pull out due to shin splints, which was so disappointing (for us as much as for her). Our chit chat definitely helped me to relax a bit (thanks, Kelly!!). A little bit later she left to walk to the start but Trevor had recommended I did a warm up run before the start. Thankfully fellow Windmilers Kate spotted me and we did the warm up together. Kate was aiming for around 1:12-1:13, so that did a little bit to appease my nerves as at least I knew that even if I lost her during the race I didn’t have to worry that I was running too slow!

The race started and I leapt off the starting line, determined to see what I could do. Because of my warm-up run my muscles were fully activated and my first kilometer split was 4:54, which I just needed to maintain for the remaining… 15k. Every time the usual thoughts crept into my mind (“15k is a LOT of kilometers”, “you can’t possibly maintain that pace for that long”, “look, everyone is now overtaking you”, “you started way too fast”), I simply brushed them off and focussed on the positives. The rain had stopped, there was a light refreshing breeze, the terrain was flat, I had run parts of the route before during various training sessions, my body felt strong and my breathing was under control). I stuck to the fuelling strategy suggested by Trevor, and that gave me additional confidence as I had done everything I could. Due to user error I couldn’t monitor my splits as my watch didn’t beep so I only saw two splits, which were both under 5min. But looking at the elapsed time, things were looking good. Every time I felt my legs were slowing down I would just drive with my arms and focus on my running technique (thanks Chi Running).

The Outcome

4k from the finish I knew I was within the 1:20 time I would have been happy with, but as the finish was getting nearer I didn’t want to take my foot off the gas so I kept pushing. I finished in a time of 1:16:30, so below the time Trevor had set me. Needless to say I was totally over the moon and puzzled at the same time. So this is what can happen when you shush that little voice in your head and just go for it! I recovered my breath very quickly, which confirmed my body was definitely capable to running that pace, which was a complete revelation. Could I have pushed further? Possibly yes, but then it had already been such a massive leap that I was more than happy with what I had achieved. Maybe next time I would be able to beat that time.

I bumped into my colleagues at the finish and had a massive grin on my face when they asked me how I had done. Most of the time, my response is just ‘ok’. This time, it was a ‘great, very happy with my time!’.

I then bumped again into Kelly and we had our picture taken so we could send it to our Campus friends. We had done it! :-)

So here is the take-away: believe in your training and your abilities, and, as Trevor says, “You may surprise yourself!”.

Happy running! :-)

The Location

The Campus is a training facility for athletes located in the beautiful Quinta Do Lago resort. It is located within 20 minutes drive from Faro airport and caters for a number of sports including cycling (the Bike Shed, is managed by Paralympian Mark Rohan), tennis, triathlon and will soon include a High Performance Centre that will be opening in November. So really the ideal place for anyone practicing any of these sports!

As Campus Run Academy participants we were due to stay at the Magnolia hotel but all got upgraded to the 5-star Monte Da Quinta, which was simply beautiful.

The Running

As you may guess, a running camp involves quite a bit of… running!

Day 1 was very much an intro to the resort facilities and The Campus. As the resorts is vast, running was the perfect way to explore and Susie and Lily took us on a 5-miler that showed us the main sites, including a few good restaurants (The Shack, Koko), a juice/coffee shop (Pure), and introduced us to The Campus. But the main focus of Day 1 was really to meet our fellow runners and share what had brought us there. You may guess: a common love of running! We also met Susie’s husband Shaun, who was going to support the sessions, and organiser Forte Management’s director Danny Davis who would pretty much be handling everything related to our stay (with the exception of the running bit!).

Day 2 was all about the LONG run. We were kindly given a choice of 8 miles or 12 miles. I currently follow a personalised training programme and was due to run 10 miles that weekend, in preparation for the upcoming Cabbage Patch race. 8 miles would definitely have felt a bit short and I knew 12 miles wouldn’t be too much of a stretch so I signed up for that one. The great thing about the long run was that Susie, Lily and Shaun made sure that the long run was very inclusive, so nobody was left alone at the back and everybody ran either 8 or 12 miles with a big grin on their face (well, most of the way anyway). The reasonably frequent stops also helped to regroup and take a breather, which was welcome in the heat. The long run took us to the nearby trails past salt marshes and through sandy trails and back through the resort walkways, the scenery was such a distraction that the miles flew past and made for a very enjoyable run.

After lunch it was time for a nutrition workshop led by Mark, and supported by a chef and Brazilian elite triathlete Marcus Ornellas. Although I knew a few things about nutrition, having had to look into it for mu ultra, I still picked up quite a few useful tips from Mark, Susie, Shaun and Lily, that provided some alternative to my go to foods. As much as I love pasta, it can get a bit much if you have it frequently so potatoes feel like a welcome alternative. I will also be switching from my usual multi-seed bread to white bread on race day. Last but not least I will pack up the energy balls I make for my children and use as race food (why oh why had I never thought of using them as race food?!). I already have Susie to thank for having used my children’s fruit pouches for this year’s ultra, at this rate they will have no snacks left at home (soz, kiddos!!).

The workshop was followed by a well-timed recovery workshop incorporating foam rollers (I immediately recognised it as that thing that’s been lying in the corner of my living room and must have been used about twice in the past year - actually turns out to be quite a useful tool if you can’t fork out on a sports massage on a weekly basis like me!) and useful stretches, all nicely demonstrated by Lily.

A second run was scheduled for later that day but I bailed out as my legs were begging for mercy and I wanted to feel fresh for what Day 3 had in store for us. Respect to those who did that second run, you are my heroes!!

Whilst Day 2 was mostly about the long run and recovery from it, Day 3 was focused on speed work. I do speed work on a weekly basis, and despite hating it, I know how useful they are to improve leg turnaround and speed, but I have to say there is something quite nice about doing it on packed sand next to a lake. It just didn’t feel as hard as my usual speed workout running between lit cones on a rather dark street near my house. Most of us really pushed ourselves and some that had been dreading the speed workout found out their bodies were capable of so much more than they had thought. I think the session was just a huge confidence booster for all. Shaun had a drone capturing the run and that made for a nice little video.

The afternoon of Day 2 was spent at the beach. Not quite a lie down (!), but some mobility exercises with the primary focus to strengthen the feet. We also got to do some planks, which reminded me how long it had been since I last did one (thankfully as I was at the back so nobody noticed). The bar behind was blasting some Ricky Martin, which I found somehow didn’t work so well when trying to hold a plank.

When we came back we gathered to listen to Mark talking about mental toughness. Mark told us his story and what he had gone through to become a Paralympian and it was such an inspiring story. Mental toughness is such a key element of endurance sports and something we all need to work on on a daily basis so we can be more resilient to inevitable set-backs.

The day finished with a lovely dinner at restaurant Bovino. Because it was our last night together, everybody let their hair down (some more than others!), which was undoubtfully helped by the free-flowing wine. There was lots of laughing and funny stories told and I think it’s fair to say everybody had a great time.

Day 4 was a bit shorter as some of the participants had early flights so after a 5-miler lead by Susie most of us made a bee line for the breakfast bar. As our runs on the previous days had been scheduled post-breakfast we had had to restrain ourselves but with the day’s run done and over with we felt free to indulge! Afterwards most of us headed for the pool and laid there for a number of hours. I think we all felt we had deserved it! We then said our farewells, but not without promising to stay in touch via our WhatsApp/Instagram/Strava accounts!

The Participants

The camp felt very inclusive as participants were of a wide range of age and running experience, which was truly fantastic. They may have done with a few more men, but I think it just goes to say that men have a bias towards women-led running camps! The two men who took part did very well though and I think and certainly hope that they had a great time too.

Everybody just got on with the running, chit chatted during the runs, and there was not a single moan even during the long run or the speed work. Clearly everybody was there because of and thanks to their love of running!

The Take-Aways

I did learnt a number of things from the Campus Run Academy. First, how to improve my hip flexor stretches. Although I was doing some stretching before, the stretch demonstrated by Lily was just so much better at completely isolating the hip flexors and I will definitely be using that one going forward. As I mentioned I also picked up some food tips, and I may start experimenting with various food pre-race, during race and post-race. Liquid calories are not something I had ever heard of prior to the camp, so definitely something I want to look up prior to my next ultra marathon next year. I will also try and be better at using the foam roller and doing foot strengthening exercises. Although it is hard to find the time when trying to fit in running in an already busy life, it is worthwhile if that means fewer injuries. After all, running performance all comes from consistency and being injury-free means you can run more regularly.

I am extremely grateful for everything that Susie, Lily, Shaun and Mark shared with us. I also need to take my hat of to Danny from Forte Management for his organisation skills, second to none. But I am equally grateful to my fellow participants, who I learnt just as much from. I found inspiration in every single one of them, from the older lady I was struggling to keep up with to the younger lady for who the 8 miles long run was the furthest she had ever ran and the participants who had run a number of marathons or even ultra marathons. They all exhibited real mental toughness (although they may not think they have it), and being in their company for 4 days gave me that running boost that I can still feel days after my return. You are all very special, and I am glad to have met you. I cannot wait to hear all about your future running adventures!

Happy running!