One voice

Belting out angry guitar to distract and diminish the frustration. Each stress a string pulled tight and strummed until my whole body vibrates on the edge of… I know not what.

Driving bass and drums kick in. Strength and determination. A sly smile at the inevitability of moving forward, moving on, leaving this behind.

Headphones too loud for comfort. Block out. Exclude. Escape. Until that voice fills my head. Right here at my heart and centre. Passion and love, anger, desire, pain and truth, and today, when I need it…joy.

A voice of hope. A voice of experience. A teller of stories, a lover of words. One not afraid of looking foolish. One not afraid to risk exposing his heart. To crack open the breastbone and reach inside. Coarse, visceral, challenging, real.

I take strength from his strength, softness from his softness and find peace in this exquisite noise.

In which I ramble on about swimming

I haven’t blogged much about swimming. I think it’s because I haven’t got it yet. I’m still struggling to get the pattern of breathing and moving right in front crawl.

I’ve taken some lessons and they’ve really helped. First of all to get me over the totally irrational and instinctive panic I had when trying to breathe with my head in the water and then demonstrating the right way to swim front crawl.

So now I’m at the stage where I know what I need to do, but my body just hasn’t caught up with the theory yet. And it’s been incredibly frustrating at times. There was one session where I really thought quite loud and clear in the front of my brain, ‘I’m not going to get this.’ But then I thought even louder and angrier that I wasn’t going to let it beat me either.

Part of that confidence comes from my experience of running. I thought the same thing about running too at the start. It was so hard. So many things to think about – breathing, rolling through your feet, not overdoing the arms, breathing, trying to stay relaxed, not bringing your shoulders up, trying not to favour one side more than another, breathing, keeping it smooth, hips pointing forward, breathing.

When I started running, it was for fitness. My first goal was to run for 20 minutes and that was hard. I didn’t really blog much about that either. Which kind of makes it hard to remember now.

So that’s why I wanted to try and start making sense of the swimming. So that I can look back and track my progress.

Last weekend I got in the pool after a session in the gym, so I was already a bit tired. Which was good, because it meant I swam more slowly. I also tried out a swimming cap for the first time and that helped too, keeping my hair out of my face and stopping me having to wrestle with bobbles, clips and goggles all wanting to be in the same space. Breathing out into the water felt better most of the time too. Although I still tend to hold my breath when my face is in the water.

The problem is stringing it all together. I seem to be able to relax for one or two lengths (and we’re only talking about a 20 metre pool here), but then lose the rhythm on the third one. I only managed to string together 4 lengths in any one attempt, and the last one was a bit scrappy.

I also tried swimming the way the way I used to with my head half way out of the water, really using my arms and legs to push myself along. And I could feel how inefficient and slow it was. How it would tire me out over some distance. It’s how most people swim in a pool.

So I’m hoping swimming properly will be like running. Given time and repetition it will fall into place and then I can start to build up the distance. I just keep telling myself that I never thought I’d be able to run 10k or 13.1 miles. But I did. I’m sure I can crack this swimming lark too.

The runner’s battle

Saw this posted by another runner today and it perfectly illustrates moments I’ve been through and will no doubt face again.

Long, not so slow, run

Another merry band of Friday early risers met at work this morning for a nice 7/8 miler. Once again I kept to the back of the main group who soon separated off into the distance.

Surprisingly mild out, my legs were feeling the strain of yesterday’s race, but I sensed I’d warm into the run, just enjoying keeping it steady. I dropped back a couple of times where the path made it sensible to run in single file, but soon felt I wanted to be stretching out a little more.

Another runner I’d exchanged emails with joined us near the start and started chatting about running experience. I’ve got quite good at condensing my little running story into bite size breathable chunks now. And I still have to remember I haven’t always done this. A year ago, running 7 miles before work on a Friday morning would have been an impossibility. The question now is what can I achieve next year?

Maybe it was telling the story, thinking about the people who have been inspirational and helped me become fitter, stronger and happier than I have been for years, or maybe it was just my usual 20 minute warm up kicking in, but at the next opportunity I took the lead of our little group. I was off, running free, stretching out and rolling in the miles.

I expected my spurt to last for a short while, but I seemed to find my rhythm and held on. Keeping it steady and consistent through the muddy puddles. Keeping it going up the hill over the motorway. Mind clear and crisp as the morning, no worries, no stresses. Just the sound of my feet and my breathing.

We were now running in three groups. The speedy bunch, then me followed by the slower runners I’d kept pace with last week. A couple of times one of the leading group doubled back to check we were okay. And a couple of times I held back, jogging backwards or on the spot to keep sight of the following runners.

Having got directions for the 7 mile route rather than the 8, I lead the way again. Feeling chuffed that I could just run my own pace and stick with it. It felt good just to be running. Not overthinking. Just enjoying the fields and the trails and feeling myself pushing forwards, like I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. There was even a sprint finish at the end.

Lovely run.

7.2 miles 1 hour 7 mins

Splits (km)
1. 05.35
2. 05.26
3. 05.27
4. 05.41
5. 05.36
6. 05.55 (hill and regroup)
7. 05.36
8. 06.37 (regroup)
9. 05.49
10. 05.50
11. 06.15 (regroup and direction check)
12. 03.10

In which I’m a little forgetful

Packed myself a lovely lunch this morning. Home made chicken soup and lots of nice healthy snacks to keep me away from the chocolate tin for the day and fuel me ready for my first winter series race.

Then I left it on the kitchen table.

Oh well, at least I had my emergency banana. By lunchtime I was really geared up and ready for a run. Today was the first of my work running club’s winter handicap races. It’s a two mile course that we’d recced last week and, as I haven’t run with them before, I got to set off first.

I set off at a heck of a lick, the wind behind me, pushing quite hard, wanting to stay in front of the next runner 30 seconds behind. With the wind gusting, my breathing at times felt quite shallow and uncomfortable, but I tried to convince myself to stick at the pace.

At the half way point I turned, Donna shouting encouragement and saying I’d done a fast time. Passing the other runners on the return leg, I felt sure I could maintain my lead for a good while, even running into the wind. A couple of times it slowed me down, and I concentrated on slowing my breathing, trying desperately to keep my legs moving at the same pace.

And then I missed the turning for the home straight.

I realised as I trotted on up the road. ‘I need to be over there’. What do I do? Turn back and retrace my steps? I saw the runner behind me heading for the finish and leapt over the tussocky grass for a bit of a short cut back to the official route.

From front runner to last but one…cos I’m a numpty

Splits:
1. 04.36
2. 05.05
3. 05.05
4. 03.05

Official race distance = 2 miles. My distance= 2.2 miles

Ah well, I won’t do that again but I did enjoy a great run.

And today…

there’s a selection box on my desk.

Part of an in-office awareness campaign. Nice thought – but oooh the temptation. They sat there all morning taunting me. Until I put them in the communal sweetie tin.

Well, all bar the chocolate buttons…

Next time you see me…

…heading for the evil vending machines and their promise of chocolate joy, remind me how sick I’ll feel on the treadmill later and encourage me to take a walk and drink some water instead.

Honestly, I’ve had a very bad day with food choices. Didn’t know what I fancied for breakfast so had scrambled eggs and a small bowl of muesli. Was ravenous and craving sugar by the time I got to work, so cracked open the raisins, sultanas and apricots and scoffed the lot.

Freezing cold in the meeting rooms so wanted something hot for lunch and went for the baked potato – cue serious mid-afternoon carb slump and ill-advised trip to the chocolate machine.

Oh well, put it down to experience and make wiser choices tomorrow

Autumn early morning run

7am and I’m at work. But not because I’m putting the hours in. Because I’ve been invited out for a run.

There’s a core group of runners at work who I’ve gradually got to know. People who’ve asked after my progress, offered advice and generally done that runners thing of sharing the experience. And last week one of the speediest said he’d include me on the email for their regular Friday morning run.

I haven’t run this early in the morning for a while. And getting kit on, work clothes sorted, lunch packed and out the door to hit North Park for 7am was a bit of a challenge. A hardy group in assorted hats, jackets, gloves and running gear assembled by the back door ready for the off as the light started to filter through.

Off and running in the quiet morning stillness. Down the familiar road from the office, with barely a car passing by and away into the unknown.

I kept to the back, knowing there were seasoned runners and a particularly speedy half-marathoner ahead. But the leading group were just about always in sight as we took off through the woodland trails. It felt good to be out in the early morning light. The air not too cold, but fresh and clean through my lungs.

I listened to the banter. Brief snatches of conversation in the semi-darkness, a welcoming distraction from the tight feeling in my calf muscles until my legs warmed up and I found my rhythm.

The route was unfamiliar, a nice mixture of trail paths, softer underfoot than tarmac and concrete pavements, but with muddy patches and puddles to test your concentration.

I ran alongside Robin, who’d insisted on his email that he could only do slow. But his pace was better than he hinted. And I was keeping it steady and comfortable. running my own way. Comfortable in my own zone.

A couple of times one of the faster runners turned back to check we were okay and as the leading group started to break away, Steve came back to run with us and make sure we didn’t lose our way on the bridlepaths along the network of fields and under the airport flightpath.

Steve’s a proper canny lad. Can talk running till the cows come home. And he pushes himself and works really hard at it, but he enjoys it too. We’ve shared some long emails on the subject and he’s been brilliant with advice and encouragement. So it was nice to run with him, particularly as I know he could go a lot faster.

For once, it was nice to run with a group, and not in a race. I think I’ve got to the stage now where I can run my own pace and not worry too much what everyone around me is doing. I found my groove and stayed there.

A couple of times I felt the concentration or the mental focus slip, and felt it was tough. But it only seemed to last for a few paces, and I’d be back in the groove again. I focused on stretching out the stride and breathing easy.

This was an off the clock run. The pace dropped off on a couple of inclines and as we turned back towards work we slowed to a walk a couple of times to pass some horse riders and an excitable dog. But really it was not about targets, or pressure. Just enjoying a fair autumn morning with fine company and feeling comfortable in my own skin.

Give me a run like that anyday. If the weather holds fair I’ll be out again same time next week.

Splits (km):
1. 5:21
2. 5.28
3. 5:35
4. 5.34
5. 5.28
6. 5.32
5. 5.44
6. 5.59
7. 6.03
8. 6.23
9. 6.31
10. 1.48

Around 7.35 miles in just over an hour.

In which I celebrate my birthday

I woke to a sunny, bright crisp autumn day and a pile of cards and presents by the bed. Lovely stuff comes in parcels from Amazon from smart friends and family who read my wish list! Lots of books and a Stephen Fry CD, from my friends plus a gorgeous new long sleeve running top from mum and dad-in-law. And a couple of surprise pressies from Gary who has already treated me to a gorgeous new winter coat and a dress that I’ll feel a million dollars in at my Christmas parties. I’m a very lucky girl.

No beach work out this morning, which was a shame as it was such a glorious day, but at least it gave me a bit more time to enjoy my morning. Off to work and more loveliness with text messages, facebook messages and a birthday hug from my running buddy Mandy. Then quite a nice day catching up with work, proofing some copy and generally a nice atmosphere in the office.

At lunchtime I went out for my first official run with the work running club. I remember when they seemed so elite and special, seasoned runners I was in awe of. Today we went out to recce the 2 mile route for this winter’s handicap series. So now I know the route, am I at an advantage? We’ll see when I run my first race against this competitive bunch next week. It was great to be out though. Cool, crisp air and sunshine, not too muddy on the trail bits and I kept up quite comfortably.

Back to work for the afternoon and my invitation to dive into the chocolate cake I’d made brought everyone round my desk for the traditional birthday embarrassment. Lovely card from my team and a brand new pair of Adidas capri running pants. I shall feel very swanky wearing this season’s running gear. I’m usually cobbled together in whatever’s been on the bargain rail!

Home tonight to even more cards and a parcel containing an awesome running songs compilation CD. Notice a theme among my presents here?

So now, here I am chilling out, listening to music and catching up with all the people who have sent me happy birthday wishes today.

And tomorrow two of our very dearest friends are bringing our gorgeous godchildren up for a visit. So the fun will no doubt continue!

Heaton Harriers memorial 10k

Oh how my heart sank when I saw the rain this morning. That was definitely not forecast. And Saturday had been such a gorgeous day. I listened to it lashing against the windows for a while as I snoozed and started pondering wet weather gear.

The main dilemna going through my mind was glasses on or glasses off. I usually run with them on, but that can make things a bit tricky when it’s lashing it down. I can see well enough to run without them, but again it’s a confidence thing. Going to have to invest in some contact lenses methinks.

Porridge, banana, blueberries and honey for breakfast, bag packed with a variety of wet/cold weather gear and off I go. First stroke of luck was finding a parking space and a nice lady with her kids offering me her ticket for the day. Next was bumping into one of my work pals Kathryn who runs for Wallsend Harriers as I arrived looking lost and wondering where to go. A short bimble around by the cafe showed me parts of the course would be wet and muddy – a first for me.

I also spotted Ian and Kelda thanks to the huge blue umbrella she was carrying. I think Kelda may be my lucky charm as she’s been there waiting patiently at the end of all the races I’ve really enjoyed.

The line up at the start was surprisingly busy. One woman asked if I’d run this race before and told how she’d fallen 800m from the end of this year’s Great North Run, so this was her first race back. I sensed she was nervous and wanted to share that for some reassurance. We wished her good luck.

The crowd of bodies on the start line were a welcome warmth as we stood in silent remembrance.

I didn’t have a plan for this race – just run and enjoy it, with no eye on the clock. Ian was soon away. At the first sign of space he was off like a rabbit over the muddy grass and out of sight. I spotted Kathryn and another Wallsend Harrier as I rounded the lake and determined to keep them in sight for as long as I could. My first kilometre was a heck of a pace for me as a result. But I felt good, wanting to be moving to warm up cold hands, breathing easy and feeling strong.

I lost Kathyrn just after the 2km mark and settled into my own run. I wasn’t really taking in anything much. I started to get confused with the distance markers – was that distance to go, or marking the distance it would be on the next lap? I settled for the reassuring beep of my Garmin and ran my own race.

After the first initial surge from the start line I just kept feeling people going past me all the time. But I was happy, in my zone, running well, stretching out. Finding my own space.

A couple of times I felt someone on my shoulder. The first, a guy wearing a yellow Blaydon race shirt. He’d drawn level with me and then fell back. “Keep it coming”, I said. And he replied, “I’m tired already”. I think we were about 3.5km in. Then a blonde girl in black. I encouraged her past me, then overtook as she slowed for drinks at the half way point. Because I felt generous today. It was part of taking the pressure off. Still running, yes. Still trying. But enjoying it. And sharing that.

This is a nice flat course, but in parts there were huge puddles and muddly leaf strewn corners that could have you sliding if you weren’t carfeul. After giving my right foot a real soaking in an unexpected pothole at the gateway back onto the town moor on the first lap, I just piled on through the puddles, figuring my feet couldn’t get much wetter.

Don't think I'm going to take up cross-country anytime soon

I’ll use waterlogged shoes and socks as a convenient excuse for slowing down a little between 5 and 6 km. I struggled a bit, felt my concentration going and my pace slipping. A short runner in a blue top that I’d passed on the first lap overtook me and I couldn’t match her again. I dug into my shorts pocket and treated myself to some dried mango, telling myself to hang on until 7km.

There’s a spot on my regular long running route that’s about 15 mins from home (so around 3 km, roughly). I mark it everytime I pass it. And from there it’s just running home. So that’s what I imagined as I passed the 7km mark.

I determined to keep in with the group of runners I’d been with for a while and try not to fall back any further. A runner wearing a Welsh dragon vest was my marker for much of the last few km.

By now I was completely confused by the distance markers. I thought I’d see the 1km to go and then kick in, but either I missed it or it wasn’t there. Because it came as almost a surprise to be heading for the finish. My kick in lasted about 100m and I stopped my watch at 51:55.

1. 04:50
2. 05:08
3. 05:08
4. 05:02
5. 05:11
6. 05:31
7. 05:31
8. 05:19
9. 05:15
10. 04:54

So a shiny new PB and a comfortable run – that’s a pretty good early birthday present to give yourself isn’t it?

Race results

Thanks to all the organisers and marshalls.