“Let’s go to the beach, beach, let’s go get away…”

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Over a year ago, a text from running buddy Lisa asked if I fancied running a 35 mile ultra on a Hebridean island. After a 15-second google, I replied with a sure, why not. We arranged a B&B, flights, and then promptly forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago when ‘sh*t, I am running an ultra soon’ really kicked in.

Training hadn’t been the best for either of us. I had managed 4 or 5 runs of around 16 miles before the heatwave saw me hang up the trail shoes and hope for the best. I’d ran 5 marathons/ultras this year and hoped that would be enough. Lisa had been too busy popping to Shanghai with work to make much headway too. …

Too hot for this sh*t

The ups and downs of Summer running…

My running friends seem to fit into two camps at the moment: those who love to run in the sun, and those who flippin’ hate it.

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I’ve always put myself in the latter…Summer and me do not go together well. Now I know I live in the Midlands and not the South of France, but anything over 10 degrees is too warm for me. I am built for Winter, not only thanks to the layer of hibernation blubber I cultivate all year round, but because I am a typical pasty Northern bird. In fact, everything about me would suggest I am better suited to a ‘Slanket’ than a slinky pair of running shorts. I have thighs like tree trunks that have been coated in cottage cheese, and can only comfortably push me through my training runs when firmly squeezed into full length compression tights. Come Summer I am wheezing, red eyed, prickly heat covered, bad tempered, slow and swollen. …

Calm down, calm down

The Liverpool Half Marathon and making peace with my pace

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When I last wrote, I was a bit grumpy (FINE, I was a miserable cow). So much so that people IRL were asking if I was ok. I felt a bit embarrassed about spilling my guts onto the internet, simply because I was in a bad mood, felt fat, and had had a couple of poor runs.

So, following my grumpy blog, I took myself for a 5 mile trot in the early evening sun, and the same again a day later with the Massey lot. It was like medicine, and when we ran through fields overlooking Kenilworth Castle, I nearly wept. …

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