Ultra Marathon Madness

14th September - I Can't Remember

Tuesday 17th Sep

At some point, it will truly sink in, the absolutely incredibly amazing feat that I achieved on Saturday. I completed an Ultra-Marathon. This is what the past three months have been about. The pain. The anguish. The severe tiredness. It all came to a head when I turned up to Putney on Saturday morning and set off.

It was the first time I have done a warm up though, mainly because you are forced to do a warm up and get yourself going for it, but it was still a warm up and it kind of worked as I was basically fine until 17-18km. I thought I was pacing well until I looked and realised I was going to fast, even though it felt comfortable.

It was hot, it was long, it was sore. Afterwards I couldn't even put pressure on the left side of my body and couldn't stop shivering. I was drained physically and emotionally, but I did it.

It was a lovely route and I think I have a few pictures of some amazing locations including Hampton Court Palace and some very scenic views of the Thames. Some of them, you would think you were in the capital, but rather in some estuary in Cornwall. Added to the beauty of the run was the beauty of the other participants. Everyone was lovely, giving way when needed, giving words of motivation as you passed and just generally being the best people can be. It almost made me cry, but I can officially say I didn't cry throughout the whole route. Which is realistically a total win (I almost cried before we started).

I could say so much about what happened on Saturday, from having to physically pull myself up some steps using the banister at 46km, to following pro runners who said words of inspiration, to the rest stops where you could tell everyone was feeling exactly the same, to the laughs of the marshal at 32km assuring me the slope wasn't a slope it was a 'fucking hill.' And the finishing marshal telling me I should've stopped my Strava ten metres ago!

But now I have to ask what next? Now I genuinely don't know what to do. Something that took over my life has finished and I just don't know where I am, what I am doing, or even who I am? I know that I'll work it out and find something else to focus on, but there is just a void where training should be.

I will keep running, but I don't know why - its just part of my life now. But genuinely after the high of completing an ultra (how many people can say that?) its a massive comedown that I need to compensate for.

Ultimately, this is my last blog and its been emotional. Truly emotional throughout. From the kind words of support I have received throughout the whole process. The advice I have been given. The friends I have made along the way. The money raised and coming 18th out of 148 in my category. Why wouldn't I be emotional? Why wouldn't I be proud and bloody chuffed with everything I have done?

It will sink in soon, but for now I just need to take some time.

Thank you to everyone that has been part of this with me, without you, it wouldn't have happened.

OVER & OUT

11th September - Final Countdown

Friday 13th Sep

So ... I've been putting off this blog, as it's my penultimate blog. By the time I write again, I will hopefully have completed an Ultra-Marathon (with a potential twist). This is all too real now, and I keep wanting to cry, hyperventilate and get in my car and drive away from this utter madness.

The final training run was simple and very enjoyable. I was joined by two running buddies, both of whom have found a passion for running and share my ethos for mental health awareness. One has done almost every Park Run for me and the other is only one behind me when it comes to Run For The Road (oh, that lovely 5km).

I have finally found the pace I want to be going at, which should mean, that if (massive if) I am strict on myself I should be able to sustain the pace and actually get to the end. It did feel like a bit of a crawl, but having looked back three months to when I started training for this, a crawl is a good thing. Yes it may take me longer to complete, but hopefully I will complete it.

Thank you to my running buddies. That final training run was made by you being there. (it also helped by starting and finishing at a pub).

As for the final marathon prep ... two friends both have bags with random crap in including spare talcum powder (if you know you know), isotonics, crisps, and beautiful magnificent amazing wispa bars. Plus one of them has a bottle of very strong cider for the finish line (if I choose to start drinking again). Trust me drinking is very very tempting, but I am also genuinely considering whether to just get rid of alcohol in my life or actually start controlling my consumption of it, rather than allowing it to control me. In other words ... one really has to mean one.

The powerpack is charging and I am ready to message everyone with routes and how to follow me on Saturday morning (its not live tracking as I may have been a bit late to buy that but it will tell the predicted time).

I have hit so many mental blockers in this training, and that is worrying, but I know in my heart that some how ...

I AM GOING TO SMASH THIS SHIT!

7th September - We Can't Stop

Saturday 7th Sep

I went for another run this morning. It wasn't the run I was planning, as I just could not get out of bed, and then when I did finally get out of bed, the kebab (I still claim their health benefits) made me spend more time in the bathroom. However, over three different attempts I did cover almost 11km. It just wasn't all at once. But it did mark my final long run of training.

All I have left is a 5k on Monday (Run For The Road - come join the fun if you want) and then a 20 minute easy marathon pace on Wednesday. It's so close to the end now, and rather than just prattling on about sore muscles, melting in the heat (it rained today and was bleddy gorgeous), and how my actual run was - average - I thought I would take this opportunity to say why I am doing this.

I have been in the hospitality for basically all of my working life. You name it, I have done it. You name it, I have excelled at it. You name it, I have failed at it. That is how much time I have spent in t the industry and how much it has shaped who I am, what I am and how I am.

I have literally seen it all, from the hilarious to the depressing. I have experienced it all. The amazing highs of perfect service in events that people can only dream of, and opening multi-million pound venues. But I have also experienced some of the lowest lows anyone can imagine. I've had knives pulled on me by drunken twats, and walked into work to find that a colleague had taken their own life the night before.

I have had my own highs and lows. There is so much I could talk about that seems impressive, but underneath it all there was always my self-doubt, my anxiety, my (at points crippling) stress, and my ability to hit a self-destruct button. Put all of this on someone who is innately lazy and remarkably lonely and you get some very interesting stories.

But then I heard about The Burnt Chef Project, and something just started to ring a bell. Whilst studying HR I had already researched absence caused by mental health disorders in the hospitality industry, but here were a group of people / organisation that went further and tried to stop that absence. No they do more than that, they try to solve the stigma around the mental health crisis in the industry. The industry I (for some crazy reason) love.

They resonated with me, and being the lazy ass that I am, I needed something to work towards. I am not going to be a fast runner, and I am strongly (like I am 99% sure) unlikely to ever get a sub 5 hour marathon, so what does someone who cannot achieve greatness do? They sign up for an ultra-marathon.

Just as therapy used to give me clarity and focus, running has done the same. Just as growing in the industry, learning how to do something properly (and then cowboying it) running has been a similar journey. Just like my work-life, running has been exhilarating, painful, heart-wrenching and fucking awesome all at the same time.

But furthermore, this organisation, that just screams YESSSS to me started a Global EAP earlier this year. If you don't know how risky this is, and how fucking crazy this is, then come on an ultra-marathon and you will experience 1% of the craziness, but they said 'FUCK IT,' and have done it. I know how brilliant EAPs are, and I wish that they were more readily available throughout my career. I wish some of my colleague both past and present had a better understanding of their needs and access to such resources. If they had, some would still be here, some would be happy and some would (frustratingly) be my boss.

So what goes through my brain. Let's do an ultra-marathon with a potential twist, let's start a running club (only 5km which is a beautiful distance) and lets talk to the founder of the beautifully absurd organisation that does so much and say, can we merge everything and I'll run / plod for a long time and raise money for the EAP, and he said yes.

So here we are. One week to go and that's why I am doing this. I am going through this torture so that, with your help, other might not have to go through such pain, so that other's might want to wake up in the morning and so that other's have the chances in this industry that I have had, and I hope to God they take these chances and fucking run with them and become the greatest they possibly can be.

6th September - No Music (again)

Friday 6th Sep

I went for a run this evening and it was brutal. Despite possibly being my shortest run yet, it was an absolute killer, so I am rewarding myself with a kebab. Don't worry they are actually very healthy, with the protein your body needs from the meat, the nutrients from the salad and the carbs from the bread. Then to equal out the body weight of grease that accompanies a kebab I am having a diet coke.

Go me, with my healthy lifestyle.

But why was it brutal, well I thought I would do some interval training. Now if ever anyone tells you that interval training is good for your speed, really helps with your running or anything positive like that, please know that these people are going to Hell as they have literally lied to your face. I will probably try them again, when I am not training for an fucking ultra marathon, but it probably was not the wisest thing to do with just over a week to go.

Brutal, genuinely brutal. And to think I have another run in the morning.

It may be that I did them wrong, and ran too fast (highly unlikely) during the speed bits and didn't recover enough during the slow bits (definitely didn't recover enough). It may be the fact that my body just isn't used to them, so pushing myself for thirty seconds every minute was a bit of a shitter.

I think it is more likely that I am not built to run quickly. I am fine with this, and I have come to terms with this, and I am happy living my life in the deep knowledge, that I am not, and will not be a fast runner.

This kebab is bloody lush.

Anyway, the benefit of the interval training was that I exerted enough energy to make it feel like I have completed a half marathon. It also gets the run over quicker. But genuinely, don't do interval training a week before an ultra.

Running - especially intervals - is not designed for a Friday evening, when you are tired from working all week and need to sleep. I think my Friday nights need to return to going to the pub. I am good at that. You don't need to put on fancy lycra to go to the pub. You don't sweat your tits off (which have gone down about five cup sizes). You don't need to try and balance a water bottle with running, not falling over and trying to reset your stopwatch every thirty seconds. Yes, I think we can all agree that the pub would've been a much better option.

Three more training runs to go and I can now officially tick everything off the training checklist. Yes intervals only happened once, but they still happened.

Three more training runs.

Just three.

Bliss.

4th September - Get'cha Head In the Game

Wednesday 4th Sep

There are two main problems with running after work. Firstly, its so physically tiring, but then afterwards you feel amazing which means you're not going to sleep as well. Especially as you eat your dinner later on, drink diet coke later on, and genuinely push your whole evening of relaxation back by about two hours.

Realistically it should only be pushed back by about an hour, but the procrastination was majorly on point. I was so close to saying 'bugger it,' but I can't do that for another 9 days when all this crazy stupid long distance running will be over.

My muscles were sore from being sat at the desk for the majority of the day, I was lethargic from having to actually think at work and then going for a run, (even a short one like today) is loooooong.

Plus now the evenings are getting shorter which means at one point right towards the end of the run, when I was going down a dark alley (don't worry it was safe - its Surrey) I was practically having to march rather than run, because I just couldn't see my footing and the last thing I want to do right now is injure myself. I'm going to save that for the big day - obviously.

The other disadvantage of running after work is the whole work thing. Bang slap in the middle of the day, morning commute with fresh smelling sleepy heads and then the evening commute with not so fresh smelling sleepy heads. Like this is prime running time, but there is not a hope in Hell I am running to and from work - even I'm not that stupid (though it might actually be less distance than the Ultra).

You can't just get up earlier to go for a run, or I certainly can't. Sleep is important and my bed is bloody comfy - not that anyone else would know!

Ultimately, it should be one or the other, but unfortunately it can't be that way.

More unfortunate though is the fact that I have less than nine days and only about five runs left before the big one. Fortunately, my carb loading has now started, and I am going to smash the fuck out of that, along with wispa loading and generally eating. Eating lots, and when I say lots I mean don't expect me to share my food and when I order enough food for four people, do not judge me when I demolish that shit just to myself.

Oh look, there are benefits to running - yay.

Genuinely though, I am getting a bit nervous. My final training run is literally a week away and then there is nothing else I can do, and that really is a fucking scary feeling.

1st September - Black Magic

Tuesday 3rd Sep

I was right not to run on Saturday. I was still completely wiped and needed to eat, sleep and hydrate. Tomato juice is amazing at this. Who knew?? But then I did manage to get out on Sunday and it was pretty bloody glorious.

I know I don't normally say that and I know it took longer than usual, but overall it was great. I felt like I could run again, at my own nice pace, racing only myself. I was expecting some rain, some thunder, a bit of lightning, which I was very excited about (remember when it rains, you're not sweaty, you're just wet), but obviously the weather Gods had other ideas. It was sunny, but it wasn't quite at the point of melting, and combination of the breeze and shade, was bloody beautiful.

It was the usual start and finish at the pub route (I am now officially loving this - apart from the even less warm down and stiffer muscles) and not that many people were out at the time. But why did it take me longer than usual?

Well going along the trail, I see a random woman, with a child and a dog both off the lead (yep children should be on leads as well when I am running) and straight away I was like, please get over, please don't be dickheads, and they weren't. But just as I was thanking them, I needed to pause the strava, take the headphones out and chat, as the random woman, wasn't quite so random. It was a friend from uni, that despite living about half a mile from me we bump into each other maybe once every other month and meet up about once every fifteen years! Crazy, but a nice little chat.

After that, it was on with the route. Just after messaging a friend who was going to finish the run with me, I had to stop slightly again. Some bird decided to use me as target practice and my God, did they get a bullseye. Yep I was shat on. Not nice. I admit I did let out a little scream, followed by a huge amount of vulgarities. And before anyone else says it, no it is not good luck, its just fucking dirty and annoying and shitting birds are now on my running hit list, and when I am Prime Minister will be banned from all of my running routes. Dirty little bastards.

Having picked up a friend, and using her bathroom to literally clean the shit off me, we managed to get to the pub with a few slow intervals, followed by a few soft drinks.

I know it doesn't sound too exciting, but after last week and the appalling efforts, I was buzzing with how I felt (despite the whole am I going to be infected by bird shit which will kill me). I found my pace, I realised that slow running is still running and if I can get it up for the next 10 days then I now I will somehow cross the finish line.

It was definitely what I needed.

25th August - Since U Been Gone

Monday 26th Aug

I was totally meant to blog yesterday, but food and socialising (sober) took priority. And then sleep took priority. Then work for some crazy reason took priority and I am only now getting round to it.

Yesterday was one of those runs where I really didn't want to go out. I really didn't want to exert any energy, but realising how little I had done for the week, I literally had to get my ass out there and do something. Mentally I was prepared for a gentle 5k. Not a try and push yourself to get a good time, not a go further and add a little on, but literally do as little as possible, because, something is better than nothing, and nothing is exactly what I wanted to do.

But bollocks to that. I ended up doing 10k. When did I become one of those runners, that could just go out and smash a 10k? Oh yeah, I'm a real runner now (allegedly) and so a 10k, just happens. Don't you just know it.

Though I wish I could conquer running as well as I have conquered procrastinating. Genuinely I put off running for over 5 hours. I could do almost a marathon in that procrastination time (almost). I need to High School Musical and get my head in the game - how is that not on my playlist? It is so going on there now. Two secs.

Perfect that is now on the running playlist.

Anyway, back to the run. It was lovely. I think I went at just the right time, as I didn't melt in the slightest and there weren't too many people around. Those that were around were bordering on dickheads, mainly because they were on bikes. Like some cyclists, would go on their side allowing me to keep moving and were lovely and polite. Others...

Rounding a corner three chavvy bastards came hurtling around the corner on the pavement - against the direction of the traffic - and almost knocked into me. If it wasn't for an unruly fir tree then I would've been ass over tits, whilst the three overgrown, learn to fucking shave, horrible bat shits would've just cycled off. I'm obviously not annoyed with them, but if I have to be considerate to others (and not just shout in their faces for being idiots) then so should everyone else.

I needed the run yesterday and I genuinely felt great afterwards. I don't know why I put it off so much, when I know how amazing it is. I need to get my head in the game, because then I am going to be awesome (provided there are no cyclists).

Bank holiday today and I've been working and the pub is shut, so no Run For The Road. I'll be doing my 5k tomorrow instead.

22nd August - Can't Fight The Moonlight

Thursday 22nd Aug

In the immortal words of the fabulous Leann Rimes, 'You can't fight the moonlight,' well in actual fact my love - you can. All you have to do is run less distance and you'll be back in time to cook your dinner, do your laundry and the lighting inside definitely fights that moonlight.

I was so excited about the run this morning. The weather was cold. Not winter freeze your ass off cold, but compared with recent times, it was cold and I couldn't wait to get out running and not having to deal with melting, chafing, people or life. Bit fast forward about ten hours when you've been up for a stupid amount of time, been to work and spent hours commuting, I wasn't quite so sure about go out this evening, and with the way my body is feeling I could've easily skipped another day.

But I needed to run just to prove a point (and try out my new water bottle - which was actually filled with orange flavoured squeaky bum juice). Scrolling through my socials today (obviously whilst on a break or sat on the train - no other time) there were several posts about what 'Real Runners,' did and who they were.

Apparently, real runners, only run in good weather according to the pictures on their social media posts. They also look immaculate whilst doing so. Real runners don't listen to music, they listen to their bodies and their minds throughout. Real runners don't get injured because their bodies are so well maintained that injury just doesn't effect them. Real runners always have a fast time or beat their PBs.

Well I've got some news for you, my social media influencing wankheads ... I'm a real runner and you can all do one.

It's taken me a long time to say this. I normally refer to myself as an awful runner, or a plodder, but do you know what, when I am out there 4-5 times a week - even when I'm only out there once a week - I am a real runner. Even though I am not the fastest. Even though I procrastinate in every possible way, I am a real runner and I went out there tonight and I proved that I am a real runner.

I listened to my music and it was glorious. I listened to my body and it wasn't quite so glorious. The thighs are still tight, but my ankle is recovering slowly. I could feel my gait was different as if my body was naturally avoiding as much impact, but I still ran, knowing to stop if the pain got worse. Because that's what real runners do.

I ran 5k. Its not much but I did it and that makes me a REAL RUNNER - you massive bunch of wankheads!

I am a real runner, I love the feeling it gives me, even when I can't speak and want to curl up in a ball and cry. I love the community around me and inspiring others that may not have considered running as a hobby. I post the pictures of me looking like absolute shite before, during and after a run. Because, do you know what that's what real runners do.

Real runners put on the wrong top and realise half way through their run that they are not going to have nipples left by the end of it. Real runners forget to hydrate at times and then glug so much squeaky bum juice that they then have a coughing fit halfway through, but the real runner keeps going, or sometimes the real runner gives up (I kept going today).

Real runners love what they are doing, and strive to get better but accept that not every run is going to be fabulous. Real runners just go for it and say fuck it and that is exactly what I am doing and do you know why?

Because ...

I AM A REAL RUNNER

20th August - Shake It Off

Tuesday 20th Aug

With only 24 days left until I attempt the impossible (yes 24 days - no I'm not kidding) I have completed my longest run of training and have absolutely no intention of repeating that distance until the actual day. My thought process is I did 28km, so after that its only an extra half marathon (ish) and I would have completed it. I've done loads of halves since I started training and so how hard can it be? Also, how delusional can I be?

I wanted a 32km run today, but my ankle decided to start giving me jip, and I just had to end it. I couldn't afford to push it too much. It's happened before, but recovery was quite simple, I just have to buy another ankle support!

I'm pleased about this long run. I have been hitting the wall early and struggled to get past the 25km point, but finally did it. Mentally I am feeling awesome. At the end, my brain was doing a little jig to the tune of the macarena and 5,6,7,8, but physically. Well that's another story. Let's just say if I wasn't at my desk right now, I would be curled up in bed, in a little huddle trying not to cry.

My ankle has decided to now become one of those annoying joints. Total middle child syndrome, where it hadn't been getting enough attention, so today has decided to throw a major temper tantrum. I doubt its the running shoes, but more likely the new trail I tried today (apparently I need some trail trainers, but like fuck am I paying almost £200 for just this Ultra). However, I also believe it may have something to do with it being a mardy little bugger that is being forced to lug around a Hell of a lot of weight. Think it might be this.

I'm pretty sure my back is going to follow suit tomorrow, so walking to and from work (and tackling the stairs) will be a very interesting experience.

As for my thighs (yes I did the research and found out the name of the actual muscle), they need to have a word with themselves. This is when they should be put in the naughty corner to think about what they've done, then come back, apologise and pretend that nothing has happened. The problem is, these little fuckers are refusing to go to the naughty corner and if you think they will go anywhere - not even the naughty step, (or any kind of step) - then we are much mistaken. Bastards.

As for the actual run. It wasn't too shabby. It was nice taking a slightly new route and seeing a bit of scenery, but again the weather needs to join the thighs.

If the weather app says cloud and wind with low heats, then there should be cloud and wind and low heat. Otherwise, it needs to sort its shit out and deliver what its promised. Or the sun in fact (as you know I love that fucker) needs to communicate better, or just fuck off for a few hours, whilst I am out. At one point, I did feel a tiny bit of rain, and I was like 'YEEEEESSSSSSS.' Make me wet bitch. But nope, that lasted about as long as one of my relationships.

I was also surprised by the lack of people around today. Frustratingly, those that were around, generally (not all) fell into the category of douchebags. Seriously, get out of my way, put your sodding dogs on a lead, and just don't be a dick.

Apart from that, I'm really pleased I have broken down the mental blocker that was stopping me from running a decent distance, and actually have a bit more confidence that in 24 days (FFS) I will be fueling properly, and running this God awful Ultra.

Bloody Hell.

17th August - Bootylicious

Saturday 17th Aug

Today was absolutely unexpected. Yes I knew I was aiming for a half marathon, ending at ParkRun, but I didn't expect it to be so tiring, breath-taking (literally) or exhilarating. It was totally bloody awesome, to the point that I'm not sure I am going to be able to walk tomorrow.

This time in four weeks, I will have completed an Ultra Marathon. And today I am actually feeling as though, it could be a reality. A very painful and fairly slow reality, but a reality nonetheless. I have also found a running buddy, who pushes me physically but not to the point of failure. I think I also push him as well seeing as today was his first half marathon - which he smashed (to the point that he just left me behind during the final 5km). I don't think he is crazy enough to do the actual Ultra, which is understand, as it takes a special kind of crazy, which I apparently have in abundance.

But four weeks away from the big day, (yes four weeks, and only four weeks which is just fucking ridiculous) I managed to get a PB during the half marathon. Not just a few seconds but four whole minutes. That is bloody incredible and a time I vow not to compete with - every again.

It may have something to do with my new snood, which worked wonders at stopping me looking like I was literally melting. It may have something to do with the new running socks, which actually didn't hurt my feet. It may have been the blue plasters I put on my tits before the run (think cabaret dancer, but with less flexibility and about twenty times more sex appeal - honestly). It might have been the fact that I ran before it go hot in the day, so trying to stop myself turning as red as a beetroot cured lobster wasn't on my mind. (I don't think beetroot cured lobster would be very tasty). Or it may have been to do with fueling.

I actually fed myself properly following advice from these so called professionals and scientists. Wow, not just figures in books but actual real life information that actually worked. Fuck me!

Literally, I had wholegrain, proteins, salt, healthy sugars (again, allegedly a wispa bar is not healthy sugar). And then I went and did a half marathon and was able to push through, and maintain quite a decent pace throughout. Its unbelievable and I still can't get over the whole thing.

Like, why did no-one tell me about this earlier, when I was doing Brigthon or London? And if you did why did you not actually hammer it into me, so that I listened. You tell me I should do other things that I listen to, but why not this. I'll admit, it was good. It was fucking incredible and like proper grown of me. So proud!

But alas, do not fear, I will not be removing the supreme excellency that is a wispa bar. The deity of Diet Coke will still guide my way. I'm just going to add to them!

16th August - Barbie Girl

Friday 16th Aug

I don't know whether that was a good run, average run, or a shite run. I know I didn't want to go out today. That big ball of gas in the sky is still being a dick and is definitely not besties with plus sized running models such as myself. It was also possibly one of the shortest runs I have done in a long time.

So short it felt odd. I'm used to getting back from a run, with aches and pains all over, and barely any energy left (if any at all), but this was so short, I genuinely had to question whether to go further or not. It's a drop down week so I decided ... NOT

It was the right decision.

As to not knowing how it went, I think it is connected with not knowing why I actually ran today. That's assuming you can boil down the reasons for running into one simplifieed answer. I'm not sure you can, which is mildly annoying / really fucking frustrating.

I was slightly hungover this morning and knew that day running was a bad idea, and having had a drop down week, I thought do I just miss the run as a whole today? But then I was mentioned on a podcast and realised how close I am to the big one, I think I talked myself into just getting out there.

I had said just go and do a run, it doesn't matter how far, even if its only 2-3km. I would've actually been content with such a short run, because at least then I could say I had run. Mileage doesn't matter, I had done it.

I had chosen a short route, but it was a bit too simple. I didn't push myself. I didn't need to dig deep to get that last bit out of me. I didn't even dance when some of the happy tunes came on! I just don't know.

What I do know is that I have done some proper running grown-upping. Tomorrow is four weeks until my ultra and so its another half marathon (minimum) to take in ParkRun at the same time. This means I need to start running at between 6:40 and 6:45am. Yes in the morning. Yes an ungodly time and quite frankly a bloody ridiculous time to be awake (unless its from the night before, for that I completely approve). Breakfast already made and bottles of squeaky bum juice already in the fridge.

Look at me and my fabulous adulting!!!

Anyway, I went out. I ran. I had a nice pace (for a short run) and its almost all over.

11th August - Six

Sunday 11th Aug

I genuinely didn't think I would be able to run at all today, but I did manage to drag my ass out of a very comfortable bed (my bed before the rumours start) and got out there. Even before 9am it was hot. Very hot. Definitely not running weather, especially after catching the sun yesterday (I didn't think I had, but the red burn lines tell a different story.)

My knees were extremely sore and after about 1km they were not improving, but I took it at a slow pace and powered through. I ended up doing 10km, and although I am pleased with the fact that I managed to go that far, I am still slightly frustrated (read as quite pissed off) that my body won't let me go further.

I know I had the energy in me to go further, but my body would not allow it. I could've done some serious damage if I had gone further. In fact I could have done more damage if I had gone further so I did what I do really bloody well.

Stopped.

On the plus side, it took me to 65km for the week and 109km for the month so far. In one sense this means I am averaging 10km per day, which is awesome and something I never thought I would do. I don't think it is something anyone who knows me thinks I would do. However, I have to be able to five times that in one day, up hills, down hills, on trails, on paths and on roads. This is not a pleasant thought.

Luckily I still have a little bit of time to get ready for this stupid Ultra Marathon, and I really most definitely and totally need that time.

Having said that, I am going to give myself a drop down week. Probably only going out for a run four times, one of which will be Run For The Road (and I think there may be non-runners joining so that could mean a walk - and I really don't mind that). I need my body to rest and recover, if it doesn't, then in less than five weeks, its going to be a very very very interesting near-death experience.

10th August - Survivor

Saturday 10th Aug

That was ... not what I was expecting. To be honest, I think it was a bit shit. I had done everything right, but still I struggled. In the bright side though, the marathon vest made its first official appearance today.

It has only been worn three times before, once for a pre-Brighton photo, once for the Brighton Marathon and then again for a Burnt Chef photo, but today it made another appearance, as I need to get used to wearing it again. Putting on three things went through my head.

1) Potential sun burn (again). Luckily when I started running it was grey and breezy so was pretty sure I had avoided that one. Annoyingly the sun decided to start coming out later in the run, but not enough to paint me bright red again.

2) Potential arm pit chafe. Not this time. Nipple chafe yes, which is excruciatingly painful, but no arm pit chafe. Which I guess is a bonus.

3) Its five weeks until I put myself through this torture. Why didn't I just wait a year and do a normal marathon, with people supporting me and a year to prepare for it? Why didn't I just say fuck it and not do this? Why did I think this would be a good idea? Because I got wine drunk and live to tell and regret the tale.

I started off really well today and at one point there was even a bounce in my step. I had had my boiled eggs, marmite and peanut butter bagels and the obligatory wispa bar. I was properly fuelled. But I did start five hours after I had planned to. My bed was far too inviting, as was my much needed slumber.

I even made the return of jelly babies, but they didn't help. Neither did the peanuts. Neither did the squeaky fart juice which I had filled my bladder with beforehand. I hit the wall and I hit the wall badly.

There were a few positives from today's run, such as beautiful scenery, a new route area and lovely pedestrians getting out of my way, but overall, it was not what I wanted. Not what I had anticipated and ultimately just a shit experience.

Today I was meant to do 32km, but when I got to 21 I just had to plod home. When I say plod, the only time I had any decent speed was when I was crossing the road. I was drained. Physically and emotionally drained, and I am genuinely questioning why I am doing this.

Yes I wanted another 7km on today's run, but the silver lining is that on the day I know I can get to the 25k point where there is a proper fueling station, and hopefully a pain relief stop.

My ankles are just about holding up, but my knees are truly feeling this, and my left hip flexor is going to go any day soon. It was my right flexor last time, so at least they are taking turns, but its still worrying, especially as its going to be road and trail.

Despite slowly completing 25km today, and running further than most people would do in a week, it still didn't hit the spot. What's just as frustrating and demotivating is that I have to do it again tomorrow.

At this point I genuinely don't know how that's going to happen.

8th August - Just A Little

Friday 9th Aug

So, I might be writing this a day late, because quite frankly, yesterday I was absolutely shattered. Beyond shattered. I was gone. But in my craziness knew I had to go for a run. Rather than running alone, I thought lets get people to come along.

I messaged to of my mates, offering a gentle 10k jog, and they were both up for it, which was great, but there were some stipulations. Firstly, when I say meet me at 7, I mean turn up at seven. Not ten minutes early. You are never early for work (which is where I met them) but you can turn up to mine ten minutes early. Early is not good before a run, especially when you are still needing to get changed, because you just don't dress appropriately and then later on you get irreparable damage between the legs. Ok so it does recover, but its not the funnest.

Secondly, I said a gentle jog. As in go at my pace, because I am twice your age and my body is not as nimble, agile, or able as yours. To be fair they had good intentions, but when they knew where they were going they pushed that speed up.

Thirdly, when I say ten kilometres, do not - I repeat - DO NOT let me make stupid suggestions of pushing ourselves for a bit of extra distance. That's how you end up accidentally doing 15kms without fuelling or preparing yourself mentally.

Despite, the guys breaking my few simple rules, it was an amazing run (apart from the whole sore knees and ankle and the muscles going into spasm later on at night. Yes, we had our head phones in, but this was the furthest either of them had run and they smashed it. And I led the smashing!

For most of the first 10k they were behind me, and that felt awesome. I'm a slow runner and having people behind me, made me feel epic. It's like I knew what I was doing or something, or just an amazing runner that everyone followed. Truth be told, its more to do with the fact that I was the only one who knew the route, so they had to be behind me. But why let the truth get in the way of a good story? In all fairness, the final km I was behind them - yes I was pretty dead by then and they knew where they were going (ish). But we basically finished all together which is actually one of the loveliest feelings in the world.

The rehydration afterwards was also life-changing. Diet coke and tomato juice (not in the same glass). Liquids and salts and sugars. The perfect blend.

I know I complain that they were faster than me, but it was good to push myself a bit. I won't be pushing my speed again, but last night it was decent and I ended up getting a PB. However, I also have to question whether they pushed me or I pushed myself. I don't think I wanted to go to slowly as they would get bored and pissed off, so did I set my pace a little too fast for myself just to impress them? It's not a massive increase, but an average of 37 seconds per kilometre adds up.

Can you understand why I was too tired to blog last night now? I was drained and to be honest I still am. Which does not bode well for tomorrow.

Tomorrow I am pushing myself distance wise, so before blogging I had to go and get supplies to help me through. I am pleased to announce the return of the jelly babies. Oh and eggs, and peanut butter and marmite bagels for breakfast. I like my pre-run breakfasts. Also to prepare I have had to fuel properly tonight.

I say properly, but that refers to my fucked up logic rather than any professional opinion. Topping up my carbs, proteins and salts, I have totally justified a Chinese takeaway. I know I said Friday night would be cider night, but I lied and its turned into Chinese night. I actually have no issue with this, though may feel different in the morning!

7th August - Bad Habits

Wednesday 7th Aug

You know when you cook a really lovely meal and then you can't be bothered to do the washing up, and then you do that for about five days, and then you realise you have used all your pots, pans, plates and cutlery and you just have to get a take away then then the following morning you just have to get the washing up done. Tonight's run was a bit like that.

When this happens to me, I end up not just doing the washing up, but then cleaning down the surfaces, organising the cupboards, throwing away the mouldy food at the back of the fridge and sweeping and mopping the floor, just because you get in to it.

I didn't want to run tonight. I managed to miss last night's run because I was so absolutely exhausted and just needed to eat crap and sleep, and to be honest, I was feeling the same today. But I know that I have to do a certain amount of runs each week and cover a certain amount of distance each week and if I didn't run tonight, I would have to do it on Friday night and I am not that addicted yet, or that middle aged, or that single - ok, maybe I am, but I just don't want to run on Friday night as that is cider night.

So I went out tonight. In my head, it was one of those, just go for a run nights. Distance didn't matter, even if I only ran for five minutes it would have been better than nothing, but just like doing the washing up, I couldn't stop.

Every muscle in my legs was stiff, tight and hurting. (Notice that rather than learning my muscles, I am just causing pain to all of them.) And although, they loosened up at some point, they are still exceptionally tight, and even more tired.

I had got myself into a really lovely pace, the kind I know I can sustain over a long distance, but then S Club 7 came on, followed by B*Witched. As much as I told myself to not let the music in, it bloody got in and I was running along Reaching for C'est La Vie. Bastard happy music giving me bounce in my step and picking my pace up. Bastard, bastard, bastard!

I ended up doing over 10km - the equivalent of not just throwing out the mouldy food in the fridge but also cleaning the shelves. But it was good and I am pleased with myself.

My run is my sparkling kitchen.

The problem with a sparkling kitchen is by the time, you have enjoyed, it's time for your next meal and you have to make a mess again.

But oh well. That's tomorrow's run and that means only one thing ...

... It's tomorrow's problem.

4th August - Watermelon Sugar

Sunday 4th Aug

I did it. Two half marathons in one weekend. It was long. It was difficult. It was actually fucking tough. But I did it. And annoyingly it has caused a lot more work for you. I now have to arrange a memorial service for my needs, arrange trade union negotiations to try and stop the rest of my body going on strike and defend myself in a murder trail as I really want to kill strava. Today felt like I had done 40km and everytime I looked at my phone it was not agreeing! Bastards.

It was a slow run, but I am so pleased that I did it. The unofficial training guide that I loosely follow says that six weeks before the actual thing, I should be able to comfortably complete 20km on two consecutive days. Well let's be realistic here. Who does that comfortably? I mean seriously, there is no form of comfort that allows for that much running, but distance wise I did it.

Like everything with this whole 'adventure' - and yes I use the word adventure in the loosest sense of the word there are bits I am good at, like rehydrating after a run with numerous different types of liquid, making sure I am properly nourished as wispa bars and crisps are now officially a recognisable food group and recovering by sitting down and doing absolutely fuck all. However, there are are also parts of the whole thing that are a laborious nightmare which I am not very good at and wish they weren't in the training plan. I think the main one of these is the actually running!

There were a lot more people out today, which is quite lovely as it shows that I am not the only idiot that gets up at stupid o'clock on a Sunday to do some form of exercise. And there were some absolutely bloody lovely and adorable people that deserve a shout out that really made today's run. Two people out walking their dogs, actually stepped to the side and kept their dogs close so that I could just run past. I did thank them and then also apologise for how slow I was going.

The other person, the one that really made my day was a fellow crazy nutter who I passed. She was waving her arms and singing whilst running. I generally only wave my arms in dance when I am on my own in areas where no-one can see me, but this lady has inspired me to be loud and proud on the streets and footpaths of Surrey. So thank you and watch out people, this is a form of street entertainment that you will really want to miss. Genuinely, avoid my singing and run dancing!

Despite the whole running thing, it was lovely to take in some nature again. Seeing a load of baby swans (signets or swanlings or just future hissing arm-breaking shits) and then later a beautiful young pony with its mummy and daddy horse. Nature at its best.

I now get to do what I do best and eat. And I can honestly say that I really don't give a shit that my breakfast / post run refuel is pork chops and rice. My pre-run fuel was the usual chocolate and crisps, but as its a Sunday I treated myself to flapjack (I picked up the wrong box of chocolates) and a banana.

The isotonic and water kept me going as well today which stomped a small cramp from becoming a life threatening buckled over in agony cramp. What didn't help was that I picked up the wrong sweets yesterday to have on the run. Bloody lovely and flavourful sweets but for some unbeknown idiotic reason I picked up the sugar-free ones. Believe me when I say that there is absolutely no point in taking sugar-free sweets with you on a run, because all they do is annoy you and make you need to poop.

It's done. A weekend with two half marathons. I can't believe I have actually done this and I still don't know how I am doing this, but I am.

And that is all that matter.

Thankfully its only a 5km Run For The Road tomorrow night!

3rd August - Genie In A Bottle

Saturday 3rd Aug

That was a really lovely but random run. I knew I had to hit the half marathon distance today, but at the same time I had to incorporate Park Run, which meant I was rudely awoken by my alarm clock at the God awful time of 6am. And after fueling and prepping and procrastinating I was out of the door in 45 mins. Not too bad considering.

However, I was back in the doors just over 2km later, as apparantely, honey and peanut butter wraps and a bag of crisps after a kebab and cider last night, meant I had to take a diversion to, let's say, make me a bit lighter. I genuinely thought it was the isotonic, but no I think it was probably the kebab and cider. Which is kind of unfair as cider is good for me and I had salad with the kebab, which is also good for me. Bastards.

But once I had lightened the load, I was back out on the road and loving it. It wasn't too hot, it wasn't too cold and it was dry (apart from about twenty minutes). Those twenty minutes did make me worry about the old nipple situation, but they survived intact. Wooooooo!

I didn't quite get to do the route I was planning because I had a seven minute dump and I wasn't running at my old half marathon pace, plus, as per usual, I miscalculated the distance. I really have to stop doing that, or at least make a mental note of how far things are. When I hit 6km I thought I had done about 10k, but when I had done 12k I thought I had only done 10. Great. With this skill I have no idea how far tomorrow's run is going to be.

The run was lovely, not too manty people out, getting in my way or pissing me. I think for the first 5k I didn't even see anyone and that was just glorious, but then I got to Parkrun. It's meant to start at 9am. When I do Run For The Road, we start on time. Now I am used to Parkrun being a couple of minutes late, and genuinely it is normally no more than a couple of minutes, but today, the race guy that was in charge needed to shut the fuck up.

I was on the clock, I didn't want to seize up from lack of movement (so I did look like a bit of a dick trying to keep moving whilst being constantly stationary. Like I get he had things to say, but really???? Eight fucking minutes of waffle. Absolute waffle. Yes we are all superstars for turning up, but tell us that afterwards, not before hand, when people have done the whole warm up thing (I think I can legitimately say I warmed up for Parkrun - 16km normally does that) and just want to get running.

Turns out it was my second slowest Parkrun to date. Fabulous. My friend got a PB and because of, again, my inability to measure time or distance, I did an extra half loop to try and catch her up. I didn't catch her up, but it was lovely seeing her finish from a distance.

Apart from the whole chatterbox race guy who, if I had any energy or desire would be in line for a strongly worded letter, it was delightful. I really got into my cheesy as hell music and I'm pretty sure I was singing out loud at one point - Sorry if anyone heard that! And then afterwards I even refuelled properly. Ok it was kind of properly, there was avocado on the M&S breakfast and eggs, but I did manage to get through two cans of diet coke in about half an hour, which is impressive even for me.

I do have to rescind my former opinion on isotonic drinks though. Yes they give you squeaky danger farts, but I am pretty sure they got me through, as I did slow when I ran out and moved on to the oh so lovely and exciting water. I do now however, have great sucking skills.

It was so important to complete today and to go that little bit further was amazing. My confidence in actually being able to complete this nightmare crap of an Ultra is genuinely starting to grow. This in itself is very important as I have a whole 6 weeks left.

Yep, only six weeks until this torture is over. I'm pretty sure that when I was six weeks away from the Brighton I was doing much longer runs, but let's ignore that fact, as this is just totally different, and I realised I am slightly delusional. But it'll be fine as I am going for another run tomorrow. Probably a lot slower, but at least its a run.

I also noticed today that I am a proper long distance runner, as I have officially lost my first toe nail. I'm not sure if this is something to be pleased about, but I think it's cool.

Can I put it under my pillow and let the toe nail fairy come and leave me money?? (Sexy isn't it)

31st July - Man! I Feel Like a Woman

Wednesday 31st Jul

That was much better. That massive ball of heat disappeared for a short while and the wind gave a little breeze and I was able to run. Run free like and emu (just a lot slower than an emu because apparently they are really fast). But is was a lovely little plod.

Not as little as I thought it was going to be, as I set out to do a 5km and ended up at almost 7km. I could've gone a lot further, but the washing machine was done and I think my housemate wanted to use it so I had to head home to empty it. Wow. I am so middle aged. But in one sense, it was good to stop when I did. I need to be stricter on myself and although part of the whole training plan is to push myself, I need to know my limits.

To be fair, this was my third run this week, with another two planned, so I think stopping when I did was a good idea. I also had to consider that after yesterday's run, it was a struggle to walk up the stairs at work today (frustratingly I actually had to leave my desk more than usual) and I am working again tomorrow - I think people may be coming to me, rather than the other way around.

Tonight was also slightly different on the sustenance front. I didn't have a wispa bar, or even crisps. I car loaded at lunch (pasta and chips - beautiful) and just went for it. But knowing that I may have to use running gels and shit like that for the actual Ultra, I invested in some isotonic drinks.

If you don't know what these are, they would best be described as bloody expensive fruity flavoured waters that make you do squeaky farts whilst running. You know the ones that you need to be really careful of, because you never know if its going to a gas, a solid or a liquid. I have absolutely no idea if they worked or not, but I didn't sweat as much and I don't feel too shit now.

However, it was a shorter run, so who knows?!?!

I will try them again, because they allegedly have healing powers / shit in them that is meant to be good for you. Plus they totally go suit my new running bottle (£3 from Tesco with a Clubcard - saving £2) Fucking bargain and sexy purple colour!

Now I have treated myself to a new water bottle, I just have to sort the rest of the shit out. But it's fine. I have just over six weeks, which is totally and obviously loads of time to sort my shit out.

It's not but if I keep telling myself this, then one day words will make no sense and then it becomes true.

I really miss the pub!

30th July - Take On Me

Tuesday 30th Jul

That big shiny thing in the sky that everyone else is worshipping at the moment, is in actual fact a bit of a bastard. No Its not just a bit of a bastard, it is a total and utter bastard. I know I used to complain about running in the cold and wet and the dark, but believe me, its much more manageable.

The heat at the moment, is meaning I am running either later in the day or first thing in the morning. To be honest the whole first thing in the morning isn't really happening, because I am living in a permanent state of knackeredness and can't wake up properly, but running in the evening, when you want to be heading out at about 6pm, but its still 29 degrees, is a nightmare. Meaning I had to wait an extra hour today just so there was a little bit of shade.

This was not - I repeat - was not - procrastination. I know that's hard to believe but it genuinely wasn't.

Even when I got out running, I must have got through about 1.5 litres of water as I was going around. For me, that is a huge amount, meaning I did have to stop for a wild wee about three times - I need more salt!

Having had that whine, the run wasn't too bad. Yes it was slow, but as I've said many times before 'its not about the timings,' its about endurance and I think today I have actually set myself a decent pace. One I will be able to sustain over a long distance which is quite frankly awesome.

What is more awesome though, is that tonight, was the first time I thought to myself, that this whole Ultra Marathon crap is actually doable.

My sucking skills have also improved dramatically. I'm thinking you may just have to take my word for this, as I am now following a strict (its not strict whatsoever) training plan.

I am starting to genuinely believe that I will make it, without the need to write a will beforehand and say my farewells. It's quite lucky that I have starting thinking this, as I have about six and a half weeks until the dreaded event.

Things are getting serious now, and I've had to up my pre-run feasting from just a wispa bar to some crisps as well. I think I might even add a banana in to the mix at some point as well, but I am concerned that a banana might make things a little too healthy! I even rehydrated properly today. Not with cider, not with diet coke, but with actual water.

What has happened to me. When did I become this boring water drinker. Don't worry I'll be pissed after this whole thing is over and I cannot wait to go back to sitting down and perfecting the art of cider drinking.

Roll on the cooler weather and the longer runs. It will be absolutely fucking bliss.

26th July - Soggy Cigarette

Friday 26th Jul

Life today was difficult, not in a bad way but in a paradoxical kind of way. I am writing this, whilst watching the Olympics Opening Ceremony, whilst eating a kebab having done exercise.

I couldn't get my ass out of bed when I wanted, so obviously I didn't run first thing this morning, when it would have been nice and cool and almost perfect running conditions (if there is such a thing as perfect running conditions). If you have found them, please let me know, because I still haven't. This meant I had to go later in the day. I was aiming for another half marathon, as need to really up my distances. Not speed, but actual distance. I settled with 10km (again) but this one almost killed me.

During Run For The Road #2, it was pissing it down and I got absolutely drenched. I would've been drier if I had swum the five kilometres. I didn't think I could get wetter. I was wrong. Man was I fucking wrong?

It was a hot day, so I thought, rather than getting sunburnt (again) and completely dehydrating myself, I would go to the gym. You know the nice air conditioned gym, with their nice little treadmills. Again, I was so fucking wrong.

Firstly, I don't think they have heard of air con and if they have, they hadn't turned it on, and if they had turned it on, it certainly wasn't anywhere near the treadmill. It was hot. Like almost infernal flames kind of hot. I was a sweaty mess. No I was a drenched sweaty mess. My top was dripping and I could literally wring it out when I got home. This was not nice. Not nice to look at, not nice to be in and not nice for my tits, which yet again are chafed to shit. Hurrah.

Not only was it hot, the treadmill worked in miles not kilometres. When the fuck did that happen? I'm sure it was all in kilometres, which mean my gym efforts so far are less than I actually had done. In one sense this is good, but how the Hell did I not know this. And again, why the fuck are people measuring in miles. You don't do a 3.1 mile run, you do a 5km run! FFS.

But the calculations weren't the only issue. When I set my speed I thought it was kms, which meant I started off far too quickly and almost died half way through (yes it took me that long to realise that I was running far too quickly). You realise its too quick when you notice that your timings would make your ultra marathon quicker than a normal marathon. That is not going to happen.

Also incline. What is that shit?? I haven't done much hill work (I have done a bit, but feel that they should be criminalised - watching the Olympics, Maldives have it right with only a 5 metre difference between their highest and lowest points). So whilst sprinting my ass off on what was meant to be a steady run, I was also going up an incline of 4.5. I have no idea what that means in real life, but in training terms it means a near death experience and an ocean of sweat.

I don't like treadmills. I don't like the hot weather when running (love it when in a pub drinking cider). I like succeeding and today was certainly not a success. I'm knackered from it, my knees are screwed and my tits hurt.

The most frustrating part is that I am working all weekend and so I either go for a run at about 5am in the morning, or I have to wait until Monday. I could wait until Monday, but at the same time I could fuck up a training plan and not complete the ultra. Or I could just sort my shit ut and run first thing in the morning and be a grumpy bastard for the rest of the day.

Grumpy bastard it is

24th July - Night and Day

Wednesday 24th Jul

My knees hurt. They bloody hurt and I don't have bathtub to take an ice bath and I don't have a knee support and its all because I don't know how to do a bloody warm up. Well to be fair I thought, I've just had to stand on a train (that only had half the coaches it was meant to have - literally) having paced about a mile and a half through London, where there really should be a minimum walking speed during peak times. Surely this would have warmed me up, but no. No it bloody well did not.

But tonight was a 10k and very much needed. Its time to get serious about this whole running shit, with the challenge just over seven weeks away and me not pushing myself enough. But this evening I did actually do somethings differently.

Firstly, I was given a running backpack from my sister and her family for my birthday (which meant I didn't really run at the weekend, unless it was to the side of the road to throw up from excessive drinking). And tonight was its first outing. Its amazing lightweight, even with almost two litres of water in it. However, it did take me a while to work out how to use the water bag inside. It turns out I suck at sucking. But I think I did manage to get through more water than I normally would because as we all know ...

... Practice Makes Perfect - so I kept on sucking.

It may be the whole biting the end thing that makes it a bit odd.

The other different thing I did this evening, was not just devour a wispa bar. Not just. I did have the wispa bar - obviously - I don't want people thinking I've changed. But the other day I learnt that salty food was actually really good for you, as it helps process the water. I've always avoided salt before running because I just assumed I needed the sugar, but for the first time I wasn't a complete sweaty mess. I was a sweaty mess, but not as bad as usual.

The other thing about tonight - wait did I say two things, if so I meant three things and I can't be fucked to scroll back up and change it - is that I found a nice pace. Yes my knees hurt but I have finally found a pace which I feel I could sustain for the whole thing (give or take 20km). I don't know if this will be the same pace tomorrow. I don't know if it'll improve or get slower. I really don't know much right now, but what I do know, is that despite my knees celebrating their two hundred and fucking fiftieth birthday, the run was a good one.

I just now have to replicate the run again tomorrow and be able to do the run several times, time and time again in just over seven weeks.

Fuck!!!

18th July - A podcast

Thursday 18th Jul

Normally I listen to music, but I have recently joined the gym and when I'm there I am only doing low impact workouts, like exercise bike and today was the cross trainer, so I just throw on a podcast. My gym workouts are vital as my knees keep aging and they will ultimately be my downfall. But it turns out I am putting in about as much effort with these workouts as I am with this blog. Though I do end up a lot sweatier at the gym.

My blogging is almost as successful as the whole training that I am doing at the moment, with the worrying fact that I now have less than two months until I could actually die whilst running. Not by being hit by a bus (which is an actual possibility) but by just not being ready. I am exercising though, which is the frustrating part of this.

When I did the Brighton and even the London, I knew other people that were also taking part (albeit a lot quicker than me) and I had that online companionship which spurred me on. I had a realistic fundraising goal but meant I could feasibly aim towards something. Now though, I am almost going solo. The only time I am not alone is on a 5k (which luckily is still under 30 minutes - just).

So what the fuck has been happening? Well, I've been doing running shit interspersed with the whole working shit, mingled with creating a running club. Not much then.

To be fair the running club started with just me in week one and then three other runners in week 2. I have no idea how many will turn up to week 3, but I know I will be there and the chances are I will be hungover to hell. Work has been tiring and stressful, but when isn't it?

Running ... well that's a whole different story. Knowing I have to up my mileage or else I am completely screwed, I decided that the majority of my runs would be between 5 and 10km, because I genuinely did not have the motivation to get out and do anything. Until the 14th. That's when I thought it would be a great idea to go out in the morning sun (yes I started at just after 7am - a fucking ridiculous time at a weekend) and then plod my ass through a half marathon. Yep, that's right, somehow I did a half marathon. What was more impressive was the then almost eight hour shift I did followed by the absolutely unexciting Euro final. I was pooped. Absolutely, totally, fucking pooped. How the hell am I going to do twice that amount???

Seriously, how the fuck is that going to even happen?

It was also possibly the slowest and most painful half marathon I have ever done. I went out without a running vest and just my tee shirt and ended up not just sweating my tits off, but literally rubbing my tits off. It was lovely afterwards walking around work telling everyone how much my boobs hurt!

I did legitimately tell them that.

What then didn't help was doing running club the following day in the pouring rain (it was so heavy the Thames was actually on the bridges) which really didn't help with the boob situation.

I think its time to buy a new vest.

Anyway, its almost the weekend, which will be filled with far too much drinking (birthday celebration) and probably not enough running. But I am sure I will do some.

Wish me luck (and donate) as I'm pretty bloody sure I will need it.

28th June - Glad you came

Friday 28th Jun

OK, so I've been a bit shit with the whole blogging thing recently, seeing as I haven't written anything for almost tow weeks. But I assure you I have been running - check out my strava if you don't believe me. To be fair, if you do check it out, you'll see that I've mostly done 5kms plods, including one around Central London in Saharan temperatures, which saw me drinking more water than I have ever drunk before - ever!

I just haven't had the time, the motivation or the energy to get out there, but then I had the daunting realisation that in less than three months I'm doing an Ultra Marathon, and all I've been doing is gentle 5km runs. Fuck!!!! The stress of working full time, commuting, running and moving house has all got on top of me recently. From the last couple of weeks, I can completely sympathise with Rishi Sunak. To be fair his running is a campaign where as mine is trails, and we are both moving house with a few weeks of each other.

Today was different though. The weather has chilled slightly and there is finally a breeze meaning I can actually run and not drown in sweat. I can actually breathe when I am out and not burn my lungs with the excessive heat and I can just keep going.

It was an amazing 10km run today (apart from the whole getting lost / not knowing where the Hell I was going) and it was a new route. Well part of it was. I didn't think with one turning that I would end up on one of my old running routes. I know I could've gone further, but with only one day off before a crazily long shift over the weekend (probably 55 hours) I still had shit to do at home. Damn life admin. But I felt it again today.

What's it? It is that feeling that you can achieve. It is that feeling where you have no worries in the world. It is the knowing that you belong and you are doing something not just for yourself, but trying to do it for others. It is the sense of oneself, that I just haven't had in so long. Today's run made me feel that way and I fucking loved it.

I also got to see where they filmed the Dowager Countess' house from Downton Abbey. In all honesty, its a lovely building surrounded by fields, a river and loads of wildflowers. Slightly ruined by the metal fencing and work that is being done to it, but I did feel tranquil. If ever you are in the area, you must go. Running some of footpaths were brilliant. I felt with one with nature and one with myself and there was a genuine runner's spring in my step.

My next run is going to be Monday after the mammoth shift - if I actually have any energy left! I think I might do this plod again, though I have worked out how to add to my distance, and I am rather excited about it.

Finally my head is getting in the game and I can start working towards this Marathon Madness. I might even join the local gym for some pilates classes and low impact exercise (my knees are currently celebrating their 107th birthday - or at least it feels that way).

15th June - Can't remember

Saturday 15th Jun

Today was glorious, yes it was only a quick 5k ParkRun, but it was still glorious. I actually enjoyed running and I could move afterwards, in actual fact I could run afterwards, well I could plod a bit more.

Running has been a complete pain in the arse recently and I have actively avoided doing any form of exercise, even walking, which I generally don't mind doing, but not recently, but I'll explain more about that in a bit, so hold on in there.

I wasn't alone today, which was fun. I managed to persuade a friend who has recently started running to come and join me. Well to be honest, I bribed her with a bacon sandwich if she completed it. Man I love bribery and I might have to start bribing myself, because who doesn't love a good bacon sarnie. Especially on a Saturday morning, when you have dragged your ass out of bed at an ungodly hour (its not that ungodly on a weekday, but on a Saturday ... really???). I introduced her to the official plodders breakfast to prepare her for the 5k - a wispa bar and some diet coke, and she did it. She smashed her first ParkRun and what's more she fucking annihilated her first ever 5k. Phenomenal.

Obviously chocolate and diet coke are the key elements in running.

Apparently I was there to support her and encourage her, but what she doesn't realise was she was my encouragement. We had agreed that we would start together (to be fair everyone starts together on ParkRun) and then I would dash off - because I am renowned for my dashing skills?? - and then when I had finished I would join her. What she doesn't realise was that I was determine to finish with her and support her as much as possible. Which meant I pushed myself and got another PB.

The awesome part abouut the PB is that it was 11 minutes faster than my first ParkRun (to be fair I was still utterly buggered from the marathon but we can overlook that) and I still had something in me. I finished, and then joined her and was allowed to be a twat whilst encouraging her. Bloody glorious. And I stay in the under-30 minute club (that totally is not going to stay that way.

Today has given me an absolute buzz. I don't know what it was. It could have been the PB. It could've been the friendship. It could have been the perfect running weather (though it has caused slight chafing on my inner moob, which seeing as I don't have a decent running vest at the moment, will be getting worse). It could've been the fact that one of the organisers recognised the Burnt Chef logo I was wearing or it could have been that I was running with a friend.

However, it maybe, just maybe, to do with the fact that I have less than three months to run a stupid fucking Ultra Marathon. Because I got wine drunk and signed up for the God Damned Ultra Marathon. Somehow, I have to take what I did today and multiply the distance by ten and run it.

Ask someone what their marathon time is and they might be able to tell you. Ask someone what their ultra time is and they won't be able to tell you, because not that many people are crazy enough to push their body through the crap I have signed up for.

I genuinely have no idea how I am going to train for this ridiculousness, but I am going to have to try and find a way of doing it.

I have been absolutely shit at running recently. I've actively avoided any form of exercise recently. I've been extremely stressed and generally lazy and wanting to just sit (a skill I have well and truly mastered). But today has changed that. I'm even tempted to go for a run tomorrow at stupid o'clock in the morning (ok, it may not be stupid o'clock and it may be a reasonable time, but again its the weekend and I should be up before midday). I'm not going to guarantee that I will run, but I am feeling inspired - and slightly freaked out at the massive challenge ahead of me.

Why do I do this crap? Genuinely, why am I doing this? But I have said I will, so I will no matter what.

This buzz could literally all end in tears.

8th June - Call Me Maybe

Saturday 8th Jun

I really need to change my mentality if I'm even going to get through part of this Ultra. I go for a 5k and when I start I'm questioning whether I am going to get a PB. I get half way around and I get demotivated because I know I'm not hitting my PB. But who actually gives a fuck about PBs? I know deep down that this is not a sprint, its an Ultra Marathon.

I most definitely is not a sprint, though at this point - one week into training - I wish it was a sprint. I wish it was 50m not 50km. When I started the Brighton Marathon training everything was great. Struggle with a 5km? Not a problem, you'll smash it next time. Problem with a 10km? No worries, you've got ages, but I'm a runner now and I need to be able to get my distances in.

I need to stop the procrastination. Though to be honest, I doubt that will ever happen. I'm good at procrastinating, and even the buzz that I get after a run (or usually get after a run) doesn't overpower the overwhelming urge to sleep and eat. I also need to realise that I do still have three months to grow my distance. I know in myself I can do a marathon - everyone I meet ends up knowing I can do a marathon - so I need to stop beating myself and just focus on me.

This mornings run was a solo run, but as part of a community. A community of people that for some reason think it is a good idea to drag their asses out of bed on a Saturday morning to go and do exercise. (I still believe that exercise is the worse swear word that I use.) Almost 500 of us, some slower than me, some faster. Well actually their were 325 people faster than me. And frustratingly I wasn't able to push myself more this morning.

I will admit that a small part of me enjoyed it. A very very very small part of me. It did give me time to just lose myself and listen to cheesy music, and it was an hour away from the stresses of everyday life. I should explain that it did not take me an hour to run 5km. I am just factoring in the standing around before and after. Some people call this warming up and down. I call it mental preparation, even though I'm not preparing myself, but I feel that sounds better than just standing around.

There was one absolute bonus to this morning's run though ... I got to wear my new Burnt Chef Running Tee. Slightly tight, but that's fine. I am sure that if I sort my shit out with this whole running crap, then it will either become looser or I might actually get rid of the belly and moobs and it'll look better on me.

Yes, my vanity is coming out. But do you know what? I don't overly give a shit.

Now to prepare myself for a much longer run tomorrow. Bring on the boiled eggs and chocolate!!

2nd June - Don't Stop Believin'

Sunday 2nd Jun

And so the torture and torment starts all over again. This time I'm aiming for an ultra marathon and thought let's start the training with a half a marathon.

For anyone that read my blog during my training for the Brighton Marathon, you will know that I burn very easily. I get very sweaty and today was no exception. I think I have drunk more water today than I have ever drunk. I truly needed to replace the fluids that were pouring out of me. I'm pretty sure I could have filled an Olympic sized swimming pool with today's profuse sweating!

However, it was quite nice to see some of the old running routes, which I haven't run on for almost two months. There weren't puddles which was great, however, there were nettles. There were lots of nettles. In actual fact if you put the amount of sweat and the amount of nettles together, you could probably create enough nettle soup for the entire UK for the next six years! Yes there were nettles.

There were also people. More people than I remember, and two smiled and one said hi. Wow, you don't talk to strangers in Surrey (when you're sober) so it was lovely to again come back to this beautiful running community.

I think today was my slowest half marathon to date. But I think that during my training this time, I have to stop focusing on my times and look at endurance and stamina. Yes it would be great to get a few PBs along the way, but ultimately I have to know in my head that I can run 50km - without physically dying.

This run has shot my knees to shit and my feet are already feeling it. Its going to be a long three months of training. But the training has now officially started.

This is going to be fucking interesting ride.

Ultra Marathon Madness

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