Running Reflections: Creating Memories

At the turn of the year, it's time to look back; to reflect on what we've done and what we've failed to do. To focus on our achievements, to remember the big events both happy and sad and, at some level, to calculate whether it's been a good year or not. Hopefully we then turn our eyes to the year to come and new goals and dreams.

Running is obviously a massive part of my annual calculation, adding to the sum of happiness and disappointment. Did I set great goals to reach during 2013; goals that challenged and motivated me?  Did I give  my all to reach those goals? To make them real? Did I push myself to my limits and beyond, into the really memorable?

In my few years as a runner, I've learnt the hard way that it doesn't really matter if the goal is to get out the front door and do that first run; to rebuild strength and form after injury or run a marathon or 12.  Watching runners across the world on Twitter and Facebook set and reach their goals, it's clear the only goals that matter are the ones that are deep down and personal to us. Comparison is often futile.

My running goals have changed immensely over the years. Year 1 -  run my first half marathon. Year 2 started with injury, my goal was simple, to be able to run, full stop. Last year - run a marathon.  Whilst the marathon is the 'show' one, it would never have happened if the clinically obese Sue hadn't had the guts to shoe up and get out there.  Next year is not showy, but is critical to my overall goal of a long, healthy running filled life. My goal for 2014 is to re-build the form, becoming a stronger, more efficient runner preparing for a marathon the year after.

So I thought I'd got next year's goals sorted out. But then I had an experience that transformed my thinking about running and running goals forever: I had my very own paradigm shift.

The catalyst was a remarkable organisation called Sporting Memories Network.  Sporting Memories Network works across Great Britain using memories about sports to help older people, including people with dementia, to stimulate the mind, body (and I would say the soul).  I heard of them through the North Berwick Day Centre that Mum used to attend and I got in touch to find out more.

I was entranced. I know from my own experience of the power of memory; how easy it is to take it for granted that, with a few slips, we will remember the important things in life. If only it worked that way!  With a lot of dementias of various kinds in the family, I know how precious our memories are.  As dementia took its hold I've watched as loved ones lost their ability to hold onto their thoughts, relationships and experiences; sometimes losing the very sense of who they are. I held their hands as they struggled to express themselves and their emotions, sometimes frightened by the void.

Seeing the face of a loved one light up when they remember something is better than the most beautiful sunrise you'll ever see. Memory becomes a gift, something special to be valued in its complexity and richness. So when I heard about sporting reminiscences and the work they do, I was delighted. Have a look at Bill's story and the way his sporting history reminds us of the man he is and the life he has lived.  Bill's story reminds Bill, his family, friends, carers and us readers that Bill has a life to live.

I was out running when it dawned on me that I've got sporting memories now; and that every time I run I'm creating my own reminiscences. Okay, I'm not going to get a gold medal, but I have a sporting story and it's a story that runs like a river of achievement through my life.  It's got a few race for life runs; it's got a marathon; it's got injury and recovery; it's got guts and glory. Every run I do is another paragraph in my running story and it's a story that I have created.

I started running because of my Dad, to stick two fingers up at the Parkinson's and Dementia that stole his freedom to move and be himself. I never thought for a moment that my first painful run would end up in a marathon and who knows what next.   Dad loved sport and he would have loved the sporting reminiscences:  the great days of Yorkshire County Cricket Club, his rugby, his work with young players helping to bring them on. I wish we'd had sporting memories for him. But it's not too late for us to invest in our own personal legacy of sporting reminiscences to inspire our old age and tell future generations about their history.

In 2014, I've got running goals for the year but I also have goals for a life time.  What running memories will I create this year? What reminiscences will I have when I sit and look back on a life well run? It's all up to me.

Watch this space!

Wishing you and yours a happy, healthy and joy filled New Year and truly memorable 2014!

Take care

Suex

Running Reflections: Chi Running Camp 2013

I won't bore you with why there's been silence on the blog front for ages, suffice to say that I've been too  busy sitting and writing to sir down and write a blog.

But of course, running blogs, especially for Chi Runners, aren't about writing, not really; they're about learning. Running blogs for many runners don't just tell the stories of our runs; they're an opportunity for reflection; a means of taking time out to look back at what we've done and what we've learnt and a space to work out what we need to focus on, what challenges to seek next.

So it's with a sense of relief that I sit and write my first running blog in two months and so try to make some sense of it all.

The biggie since the last blog has been attending the first UK Chi Running Camp up in Perthshire. It's been 18 months since my first training session with Nick and the time was definitely right for lesson 2. I was really looking forward to focussing in on form and improving my running under the masterly tuition of Nick and a host of Chi runners from across the country.  Added to this was the chance to link Yoga and running through working with Mark, who brings two of my  favourite things together in happy union.

The location was superb, just outside Callander in beautiful Perthshire with green rolling hills, fine trees and beautiful scenery. Of course there's a reason why it's so green and lush. It rains a lot. But as our tour guide in Madeira said as the heavens opened on us again 'it's only water' and after running in the wind and rain of last winter, a bit of rain wasn't going to deter us.

Running and yoga - what a brilliant combination. I loved starting the day with Mark's early morning yoga session. It felt very special to get up before dawn (quite late this time of year!) and head to the lovely communal space which was quietly and gently lit. Slowly we opened up to the day ahead; what a great way to start the day.  Mark advised that if we did nothing else, we should start each day with sun salutations. Ever since I've made sure that I do. I'm convinced that it makes an incredible difference all round, especially to my iffy hips.  Working with Mark I was also able to get my Yoga moves much more accurate, and I learnt a lot about how to use my Yoga moves to improve my running. Another change has been that I now end every run with a Yoga sequence rather than a stretch with a much more mindful appreciation of the work done by my muscles and joints.

The running was great. I was a bit nervous that I'd picked up some bad habits since I last saw Nick and that everyone would be a better runner than me. But Chi Running is about being your own runner so it matters not a jot how you compare to others (though there is always something to learn from others).  As I trotted off down the path to give Nick a chance to assess my form (feeling a bit like I was in a dressage competition!) I was delighted to find I automatically went through my Chi Running checklist, what a relief!

Nick pointed out that  I was bending forward at the hip.  We'd looked at this the night before when Nick ran us through the basics; it's quite a common fault. I needed to pull up and out of my hips a bit more. You can see from the photo below the sort of thing I mean by bending forward. I also got some great teaching on using my gears. Using a rope round my hips, Nick demonstrated how I just needed to lean into the different gears, so much easier than trying to explain in words! And I find I can remember that sense of leaning against the rope really clearly, it's imprinted in my muscles.

We trotted along quiet winding country roads, going through our paces, working on our form, using the gears. Jon, one of the trainee Chi instructors gave a master class on hills. I have the picture of Jon going up the hill in my head every time I set off up one and it works like a dream.  Another Chi Instructor, Andrew, showed us how to change gears using our arms, it worked like magic.  In the photo below, there's me changing gears - I'm the one in the pink waving her arms around. You basically bring your arms out in front of you in a swimming motion til you're reaching forward holding onto an imaginary beach ball (think Pilates). Don't mock, it works, though you get some odd looks at times. Having several Chi teachers gave an opportunity to see different teaching styles too which was great.

Sadly I could only stay for one day of the camp, but I learnt lots of important things and that day helped me make significant improvements to my running. On the first run after I got back, I focussed on pulling up and out of my hips. It felt amazing and I found that I could use the gears better and my hips felt pretty good after the run too. I need a few more of those as it's quite an ingrained habit I think.

There's something about Chi Running that works for me. I like the philosophy about energy and form and practice. I like the science of alignment and line. I like the fact that everyone of us has our own path to follow and that none of us know where that path is going to take us.

So a festival of learning and running transformation which has yet again led me to make permanent changes in how I run. If only everything in life worked as well!  If you get the chance to try a Chi running workshop or camp, there's a growing body of great instructors running workshops across the UK. What's great is that they work together and support each other and learn from each other.

That feels much better! It's worked out well to have some distance between the doing and the reflecting, it's given me the opportunity to see what learning has actually stuck! Once again I'm impressed by the effectiveness of the Chi Running approach.

A final sentence to mark the departure of Nelson Mandela. What a privilege to have been on the earth during his life time. What a gift to have had him with us for 95 years. He set the bar for humankind very high, but we owe him to aim high.  Farewell Mandiba.


Take care,

Suex

Running from the hip: lessons in focus and practice

Something remarkable happens when you say things out loud and I reckon blogging works just as well. It's the logic behind the power of intention, behind the working of spells; saying things out loud starts to turn your hopes and dreams into reality.

In my last blog I said I wanted to run my second marathon in 2015. I knew when I was running Lochaber Marathon that I wanted to do another. I know I can do better and I really don't want to waste the vast amount of (painful) learning.  I learnt the hard way that more than most people I need to allow plenty of time to build up so I start Marathon training from a strong baseline.  So I signalled I'm ready to start with plenty of time to ahead.


Those few words written down in black and white have started something, my world is turning and my perspective has definitely changed now I have a purpose and a goal again.  I've started to build hills and speed bursts into my runs. Just a little bit, not every run, but they're back. Every time I run I have (or I find) a purpose, every run takes me closer to my goal. The journey has begun and I'm looking forward to a serious Chi boost in a few weeks when I'll get some transformative training with Nick at the Chi Running school.

My thoughts are turning to what races, when and where. I need to build up distance but more importantly at the moment I need to rediscover my inner hare.  I did a pretty good job eradicating speed and pace from my consciousness when I was marathon training, now I need to get them back! I've started to sprint at the end of short runs and managed a couple of quick 5k treadmill runs snuck in before classes at the gym. It'll be a while before I get back to my short distance pbs, but this is the year to go fast and short. Already I'm finding that my pace is speeding up and my perceived exertion dropping down. My body knows what's expected of it and is responding.


The mental side of running has been dominated by what happened to my knees and hips over the marathon training period and I have developed an obsession with building up slowly and carefully to avoid causing any damage. But recent developments have made me realise that I can do more than just take it slowly and wait for things to get better.

A few days after my decision I got a massive boost of serendipity, courtesy of Virgin Gyms.

The first thing was Adam's yoga class. I love the gym's Yoga classes, the teachers are excellent and  have taught me a great deal about what practice means. That way of thinking is filtering through and starting to impact on how I go about things, especially on how I focus.  Anyway, Adam's class focussed on pelvic alignment. I'd done a long run the day before and was a bit creaky in knee and hip. After an hour and half with Adam focussing on this one key bit of my alignment, all the niggles in my left hip and right knee completely disappeared. Proof that the problem is not my knee or indeed my hip, I need to focus on my pelvic alignment and strength. I have to build improvement and strength through focus and practice. I started with my morning Yoga stretches.

The impact on my running was instant. I went off for a slow run the next day with a clear focus on hip alignment.  I've never focussed so directly on this bit of my core before and as I ran I realised I usually concentrate on holding core muscles rather than aligning bones. The shift of attention really worked. Running from my hip bones meant I got the rest of my core right, it made me concentrate on holding the correct position rather than holding the right muscles. I found it much easier to tell when I was getting it right and it gave me access to more power and speed too, it felt very strong running from the hip. Nothing hurt, even the next day, not even the niggly knee. Something had clicked into place and my understanding of maintaining form and the importance of practice deepened. Good Chi Running stuff!

 I'm doing as much as I can for free at the moment, so when the chance of a free session with a personal trainer came along, I jumped at it.  I had pretty low expectations to be frank. I thought I'd get a bit of help with the new machines and maybe a new core training regime. What happened was another epiphany.  Dan took me through my paces and analysed my gait. He quickly identified my wobbly uneven pelvis as a problem and had me doing lunges with and without weights; it was hard work and I now know why I have always hated lunges with a passion! Wearing trainers made my wobbles much worse as they reduced my ability to stabilise. It took pelvic stability and alignment to a new level and gave me a really good way of building that bit of my core strength. Working with Dan I realised that personal training could help me improve my technique, strengthen my weak points and take my running to a new level. Finally I could ask all those daft questions and get feedback on my form without feeling guilty about holding up the class.  Watch this space.

So the journey continues, this time leading from the hips with a new respect for the power of form and practice. I have a lot of work to do but I'm not deterred. I've my Chi Running training coming up which will bring running and Yoga, form and focus together with friends and fun. Great things will happen. Bring it on!

Have a great week!

Take care

Suex

Planning Marathon Number 2!

It's been a busy few weeks as the tectonic plates of life take a wee shuggle and I've not done as many runs as I'd have liked. But I decided to use the running I could do to tackle a few barriers and that's proved really valuable in getting me back on track.

On a trip up North, I had a delightful early Sunday morning run in Inverness. After a bad night's sleep and a day in the car, I knew a run was just what I needed; plus a run is a great way to get the feel of a place.

Inverness is a delight to run in. I did the obvious and ran along the River Ness that cuts through the town.  There's paths down both sides and lots of bridges, so you can do a real mix of loops back and forth across the river. I don't get the chance to run over many bridges at home so I took full advantage and weaved from side to side as the whim took me.  I used the bounce on the bridge to help me run lightly, an aspect of form I've neglected recently.

A little way down towards the edge of the town, there's a wee island in the middle of the river that's just  like Narnia with lights stringing through the trees and a maze of little paths. Magic. I bet that's a cracking run any time of the year and I could have gone much further. I look forward to running Inverness again before too long.

My run was not stylish. My legs were heavy and I had  a a persistent pain in the butt from sitting down  that just wouldn't shift. I was tired, grumpy and lumpen. It was an ungainly run. But I was pleased that I didn't let the pain put me off. I analysed it, kept an eye on how it responded to running and I wasn't frightened of it. For me, losing the fear of pain is a key part of the recovery process.

Back home again, I did my first hills since the marathon. After the warning from the podiatrist I'm very wary about running hills, but the time felt right to start, with a hefty measure of respect. It went fine. I took it slow, focussed on my form and didn't over do to. Hills are back into the training schedule.

And the long runs are not far behind.  I've done my first five miler. I decided to make the most of a cancelled mid week run and save myself for a longer one at the weekend. I love my long run, it's my favourite run of all, it's what running is all about for me.  So it was with a big grin that I donned the gear on a beautiful sunny North Berwick Sunday morning (last weekend!) and hit the road. The aim was to do my 5 mile run, even if I ended up walking half of it.

It was great to get back onto the old route after so long. The field full of rapeseed oil has been harvested and re planted. The recent high tides have removed a lot of sand from the beach and collapsed the sand dunes. But it was a really low tide and the beach was ginormous. Only a few dog walkers were about at this time of day, the only company except for the footprints of the early bird runners. Just me and the sun and the seabirds. Bliss

I just trotted at whatever pace I felt like. Since the marathon, I don't look at pace when I'm running. It's weird I used to be so obsessed with how fast I ran. Now it's all about how long I can run for. I trust myself now that the speed will come in due time and it is.  That's been a big (and painful!) lesson for me to learn.

I'm now ready to start planning ahead and set myself some running goals.  It's taken me a long time to recover from the marathon, much longer than I thought it would. Whether it's age, anatomy or a mixture of the two, doesn't really matter, that's just how it is for me. So I've decided not to do a marathon next year. I want to be fully recovered physically before I start that training regime again, plus I want to put the lessons I learnt into practice without the pressure of a marathon. 

I fancy a couple of half marathons; I know I can manage the distance and I need to know if my debut time was a fluke! If that goes okay, I'll aim at 2015 for my second marathon, hopefully with a good year's running behind me.  I'd really like to do Lochaber again, I had such a wonderful time and they were superbly friendly. But who knows.

Whatever you've been up to I hope you've had a great time. Run strong, stay safe.

Take care

Suex

Runner Dundee

Time and tides conspired so I only had one run this week, but it was a bit different and rather special. This week's run was in Dundee, a fine city famous for jute, jam and journalism. I was away from home for work and there's always a bit of time for a quick run when you're away, and there's no better way to get to know a place than running it.  So I packed my trainers and sports bra and headed off.

I was up bright and early and so was the haar - the thick wet mist that comes in from the sea. It's the price us East Coasters pay for a period of sunny weather. But after winter marathon training, it felt cool and refreshing; Scotland's mists are always a bit magical.

I left the hotel at 6 with only the odd bus or two for company and headed for the silvery Tay.  Outside the hotel was a most dramatic and unusual sight - massive piles of rubble. Most of the buildings round the waterfront have been demolished and the great piles of brick and concrete fill the landscape, whilst half-built roads leap out through the mist disappearing en route to the river.  You rarely see sights like this in peace time, it was a bit like running in the set of I am Legend (or a Coronation Street tram crash!).

I've not been to Dundee for about a year and I barely recognised the waterfront (which I think is the whole idea) but  I quickly got to the Tay and the magnifident Discovery which graces the City. The ship is a symbol of the pride and vision people have for Dundee. Few are unmoved by these magnificent ships and the bravery of the folk who sailed them.

The Discovery is at one end of a delightful waterfront path that runs almost to the airport and is punctuated by art works of a marine nature.  It was very quiet save for a couple of friendly cyclists.  On one side of me the silvery Tay lapped at the sea wall. On the other, the ghostly shells of half built luxury flats rose through the mists. In a short time, this place would be a hive of activity. I idly wondered if Brad Pitt might be about looking for another Scottish film set.  Those flats will have fantastic viewa across the Tay when they're built and an easy run or cycle to the train station too.

I went as far as I could and then headed back into town.  I was just shy of my 3 miles so I did a a brief sight seeing tour round the shopping area. The magnificent buildings, the legacy of a rich and prosperous history, have survived and the new and the old blend well. It's pedestrianised which makes for good running (and good shopping!), clean and welcoming.

Of course Dundee is also home to that august publication much loved by us all - The Beano, so I wasn't surprised to come across Desperate Dan with chums in tow on my route.

A three mile, thirty minute run. A perfectly normal short run. I am recovered. I only stopped to take photos and finished fast and ready to run more. It felt good. And of course a morning run justifies a treat! Thanks @paintedrunner for the suggestion of Dundee Cake!

Dundee is a city in the middle of massive and bold change. A great deal of the old (and mostly very ugly) waterfront has been demolished and so at the moment it's not exactly pretty, but it is very exciting to think about what Dundee will be like in a few years.  Most folk I spoke to were happy to see the changes and were optimistic about what would come next.

And it's not just a Giuggenheim that Dundee has to look forward to. Look what I found right next to my hotel!  Surely getting a great running shop must be a pretty good indicator of well being and economic regeneration!

I hope to get back to the beach runs next week again. Cue wind and rain!

Wherever you are whatever you're up to, have a great week!

Take care

Suex

Running with Herons: Recovery Week 3

Recovery run week 3 and I'm starting to feel like a runner again. Last week really took me up a level and this week I felt like a different person when I donned my kit and headed out.

That first moment of hitting the beach is always breathtaking. Whether it's summer or winter, morning or evening, it's magical. I never get tired of that first sight of the Bass Rock on a run. I read some research that said people define 'home' in different ways. For some, home is when they get through their own front door. For others, it's when they arrive in their own country. For me, it's when I see the Bass Rock from any angle, by train, by car, by run. I love the Rock best when it's white, then I know it's covered in gannets and gannets always make me happy.

This week low tide's been very low and so the beach has been enormous: great rocky outcrops with oases of sand scattered between. It's something else to run on sand that a few hours ago was covered by sea; sand we only see when the tide's way, way out.


There's a lot of bird life when the tide's out, especially early morning and it's noisy out there. No need for the ipod on morning runs on the beach.  Both days I've arrived at the wee estuary at the same time as a flock of seagulls (cue 1980s flashback). What a racket!  As the gulls gathered, they rose to greet each other squawking and calling, before settling down to look out to sea and harass the oystercatchers.

There's loads of birds early morning on the beach; angry black headed gulls; startled oyster catchers,  curlews sounding like childhood. But this week I've been lucky enough to see the herons.

The first heron was on my run out. A large bird, invisible until the moment something tells you that's a heron over there. He was sitting on a rock looking like he was gazing out to sea. Not a muscle moved. I slowed down to try and not startle him. He was still sitting there when I came back.  I slowed down again as I went past and as I came round the corner, I saw a smaller adult (Mum?) and what I think was a young bird being taught to fish. They were off too quick for me to get a snap, the young bird ungainly in its rush to get to safety.

Herons have such a quality of stillness about them; even taking off these birds are so elegant, so unhurried (usually). Herons make you want to stand still and reflect on the world.  I always feel special when I've seen one. When I got home I had a Google and found out that in Native American mythology, herons are about independence, being open to change and following non traditional ways. They offer the gift of balance, allowing you to perform many tasks at the same time.  That sounds like most runners I know, we're pretty independent and not exactly run of the mill folk.

I know change is the only constant, but I'm in big change mode at the moment and running is a big part of it. As a woman of a certain age, I'm having physical and emotional changes to deal with and running helps.  I can't tell if I'm having a hot flush when I'm running - result! I've been having acupuncture, initially for the menopause symptoms, but  I'm also getting my post bursitis hip rehab sorted too. That's all about strengthening the ability of my hips to balance my left and right sides and my asymmetric body.  As Ming  uses her magic needles, my hip pain has all gone now and it's helped me identify a tightness in my psoas muscle.  I've now got myself a set of Yoga moves to stretch out my psoas and strengthen my hips and create more balance.  Running has become part of my hip recovery not a cause of injury. Of course acupuncture and Chi Running share similar values and philosophies.


I've done two runs this week, each with 4x5 minute runs with 1 minute walks in between.  My second run was over 3 miles - the first time in ages - and it felt good, I started to feel I might be able to run without stopping soon.  I was delighted to realise that I've been so focussed on how long I run, I haven't once looked at the pace on my Garmin. That felt like a real achievement!

Instead of a third run,  Ali and I did a ten mile walk on Saturday walking from Gullane to North Berwick. A beautiful day and it's so great to see our beaches being used. There were walkers, strollers, rowers, paddle boarders and cyclists with those fat tyres - and of course dog walkers and runners and sandcastle builders with the odd barbecue thrown in. Something for everyone.

We had a delightful lunch at the Direlton Gallery - great soup and sarnies and always an excellent cup of tea. What more could you ask?

Next week is 2x10 minutes with 1 minute rest.  After that I should be able to do 20 minutes without stopping. And after that I'm back to being a normal runner again - whatever that is!

Have a great week, take care and good running!

Suex

And then a miracle happened...

Recovery Week 2 is now complete. Hooray! Three runs done of 4 minute running and 1-2 minutes walking. It's been a great week for beach running - lovely weather, not too much wind and tide times fitting my schedule. It's been an incredible contrast with the freezing wind and rain of my training runs.

Of course I'm delighted to be running again, it's fabulous. But if I'm honest it's been a hard slog even though I've not run for more than 4 minutes at a time and only hit 2.5 miles today. Every run I've wondered how I ever managed to do 26.2 miles when I haven't even got to 2.6 miles yet, yes it's been tough. But of course runners know to trust the process and the wisdom of our bodies, so I just got on with doing the running bit and waited for the usual miracle to happen.

The miracle came this morning.  Saturday morning runs send a tingle down my spine. During marathon training Saturday was the day I did my long run - my favourite run of the week. On a Saturday I could run as long as I wanted, no time limits, no desk to get back to, just the trail ahead of me. It's like being a kid and being allowed to play out all day. So early this morning I left the house with a lovely warm

glow from previous Saturday mornings at the back of my sleepy head.

The beach was empty for almost the entire run. The beach was mine, all mine. Running along an empty beach is like you own the whole world for 30 glorious minutes.  I headed off as usual, checking my garmin for my 4 minute intervals, listening to the sound of the waves and the seabirds.

Because it was a Saturday I allowed myself an extra interval, plenty of time to rest as I can't run again for at least 3 days.  As I hit the big stretch of beach between North Berwick and Gullane, the empty beach rolled out ahead of me and my own footprints behind me.  Something clicked inside; my legs eased into running gear, my breathing slowed and I just relaxed. I felt like a runner again.

As I ran  I remembered how even at my fittest, I often found those first two miles bloody hard going.  I'd put the struggle down to my slow recovery, but I'd forgotten that I nearly always have to grit my teeth for the first couple of miles even at my 'peak'. My heart lifted, my stride lengthened. As I started my last 4 minute interval I checked my time on the garmin and for the first time in my recovery runs, looked at my pace. I had to smile at the return of my speed obsession but I was pleased that I hadn't even thought of speed until now.

So a great recovery week, more recovery of the heart and the spirit than the legs! Though of course technically, this is not about recovery - I'm not going back to how I was, I am going somewhere new, somewhere better.  But the discipline of recovery has been critical; it's made me slow down and this has given me time to learn and reflect. If I'd done my usual dash to get back to form, I'd have missed some important stuff. Sometimes in running you need to slow down and let the sound of the waves carry you.

Have a great week, run safe and run strong!

Take care

Suex

Back on Recovery Road....

Ah, the joys of running. There's nothing quite like that first recovery run to make you appreciate the simple pleasures of running.

Being off your feet for more or less 8 weeks feels like forever. That last run in June was not joyful, everything felt out of kilter. A niggling hip, that little voice inside that you really wish wasn't there, telling you that you need to pay attention or else. I know the signs and I know resistance is futile. I stopped running and just kept up the spinning and yoga. The problem persisted and it was clear I had a problem that wasn't about running.  It turned out to be hip bursitis and the trigger seems to have been incorrectly positioned pedals and too many madly serious spin classes.  I was trying to protect my knee...... what's for you won't go by you.

There then followed a couple of months trying to keep off my feet, avoiding stairs and generally taking it easy. It wasn't as awful as I'd expected because I knew that it was time to stop running and sit down and deal with a backlog of other stuff that had accumulated (more to come in future blogs).

But sitting down doesn't mean you can't improve your running and I didn't waste my time. Running strength relies on a strong healthy body, so I went to see a nutritional therapist who helped me clean up my diet and rationalise my increasingly random selection of supplements and vitamins. Over the years I'd accumulated a small pharmacy of stuff from glucosamine to fish oils.  An analysis of what I ate by health rating rather than calories showed I was eating a lot of dairy and not enough carbs. My liver was struggling without my gall bladder, even though I hardly ever drink alcohol.  Roisin suggested I cut out dairy for a while. Within 24 hours my allergies to cats, dust, hay fever, pollen and a shed load of other stuff, disappeared. Stopping dairy meant the end of a 15 year long daily anti histamine habit.

After 6 weeks or relative inactivity, it was time to get those legs moving again. A fab holiday in the North of Scotland in all its sunny glory signalled the time to start moving. We did some good quality long walks over cliffs, across beaches and along rivers. Walking gives you plenty of time to focus on form, so I took my Chi Walking book with me and worked on form as we walked along. Over that week, I felt my muscles strengthen bit by bit and my running head gradually returned.  The little niggles began to fade and life came back to my feet and legs. The time to run grew nigh.

It felt more like a re birth than a return to running when I set off for my first run in months - two miles run/walk along the beach early one morning when no one else was around (well if there was it was too misty to see them!).  I'm using the full recovery plan from Running Well, written by two great running gurus and a forward by my shero Dame Kelly Holmes. It starts with several weeks of run/walk, gradually building up the running time over 6 weeks, after that you build up the running time using the usual training rules.

Week 1 of recovery is done.  6 miles running, 6 miles walking. No spinning!  It's good to be back and it's good to be back slow knowing that every step is making me stronger and getting me back on track.

Take care

Suex

Feels like taper madness... what happens when runners don't run

A long period of not running is a bit like a prolonged taper, it does weird things to your mind. When the running stops, that running-shaped bit of our lives becomes a void where there be dragons and monsters to work wyrd magick in our heads. When we taper, we have to trust the space of not running and it's often when we get a deeper understanding of running.  Not running because of an injury brings a similar void. I'm beginning to realise the importance of finding the value of 'not doing'; not running; whatever the reason for our stillness.

In my last post I found myself questioning the right to call myself a runner. It led to a lovely exchange with Bob, a Twitter chum and remarkable blogger.  Bob has a powerful story to tell about being a runner and not always being able to run (I don't want to spoil the story so will say no more!).  His tale helped me understand that I am indeed a runner even if I'm not on my feet. If you ever get fed up being injured and fear you're losing hope, read Bob's story and believe. Thanks to Bob I know that at a fundamental level that no matter what I do, I am a runner. #thatisall

As the week went on I got more and more aware of the vacuum created by not running and how clearly I can see how running has become a fundamental part of my life, of who I am and increasingly, my core survival strategy.   When things have been tough, running has got me through. Now that I've stood still for a while, I can see I've almost literally been running for my life the last wee while - to burn off stress and clear my mind. Running has given me a massive sense of achievement and self confidence that I can do what I set out to do. It has provided an escape from worries and fear. Running has gifted me friends, a positive attitude, resilience and more confidence than I have ever had about anything: ever. But I only truly understood this when I stopped running.

The weird thing is it's all crept up on me without me even noticing.  Three years ago I was doing one run a week and just beginning to think I might go for a half marathon.  I could easily slot a run into my life with almost no adjustment. I just had to find a bit of time - about an hour a week. I wore my  usual gym kit and shoes. I ate what I normally ate. Easy.

But over the last 3 years, the balance has shifted and quite often I'm working out how to juggle things round a run. The signs are visible everywhere I look.  The alarm set for the crack of dawn to squeeze a run in before work; protein shakes in the cupboards; more trainers than heels and drawers full of lycra.

Nature abhors a vacuum and I have felt a real desire to rush to fill the spaces with noise and ideas and plans and goals, but if I do that I lose the true value of being where I am.  So I'm not going to do that. I'm going to stay here for a while and see what emerges. I'll be running soon and I'll lose the perspective that not running gives me, the chance to reflect on my life from a different place.  The future lies in the spaces in between and it will emerge in  its own good time.

Every time I've taken time out of running I have gone back stronger and better and more fully a runner. The first time brought I discovered a Chi Running teacher and community that have helped me connect my mind and body and focus on form.  The second time I learnt how to  accommodate my less than perfect biomechanics (i.e. dodgy feet) and to balance my lop-sidedness. Now, I'm reflecting on where running fits into my life and how I want to run over the next stage of my life.

When we runners don't run for whatever reason, a space is created. What we do with that space is up to us. We can turn away from it, ignore it, freak out, pack it full of activity.  Or we can lean over the edge, take a peek at what lies within and wait for new things to happen. It  really is a case of watch this space!

Whether you're running or reflecting, have a great week.

Take care

Suex

Ich Bin Ein Runner

What is the defining feature of a runner?

It's only over the last two years I've come to define myself as a runner, even though I've run sporadically for over 50 years.  I'm very proud of being able to call myself a runner now that I feel I've earnt the right to the honour and there's no doubt that it has transformed and enriched every aspect of my life.

At the moment, I'm a runner who can't run. The fact that running is so much more than a physical act is painfully apparent to me just now. But what happens when you can't do the very thing that defines an important part of you? I might feel like a runner inside, but how do I proclaim my running identity when I'm not able to run? How do we runners recognise our ain people if they're not clad in lycra and trainers and out on the trot? When I see another runner and I'm not running I want a badge, an arm band, some way of letting them know that, although I am walking and in civvies, I run. I want to tell them - 'I'm a runner too, I just can't run at the moment!' I don't do this of course, I've come to learn that shouting at strangers is not acceptable behaviour.  If there's someone with me, I have been known to make a running-type comment just loud enough for the passing runner to hear so that they know I am not just an ordinary person, I am one of us. Sad but true.

But even though I can't physically run, I am still a runner. Being a runner means being part of a massive community of folk to compare notes with, to share tales of glory and woe with. The running community loves to chat about the great passion we share. We learn from each other and support each other and cheer each other on to greater feats. Though indisposed, I can still work on my running. I can read about and develop my understanding of running; I can blog and tweet - life savers for us runners who are off our feet.

 I'm finding the combination of injury-enforced time-out and connecting with the wider running community is taking me to interesting new places that will ultimately develop me as a runner. Because I'm injured I don't have an active running goal; no time; no race; no distance to focus on. This has enabled me to open up to new and better ways of doing things.  For those of us who tend to get carried away with enthusiasm in our running, injury time can be nature's way of making us take stock. So the really daft thing to do is ignore the importance of time out and waste its potential.

I'm finding the mental part of injury time is a bit like the process my mind goes through on a long run.  Once I settle down to accepting I'm here for a while, I begin to relax into where I am and just go with it and see where it takes me. Last time injury took me to Chi Running and my teacher Nick. This new long non-run is leading me to think about why I run, what drives me to get out there. I'm not sure why or where this will take me, but I know it's a journey I have to make.  I have to put on my mental training shoes and get out there beyond my psychological comfort zone.

I am a runner. I can't run, but that won't stop me and it doesn't take away the fact that I am a runner. I ran today. I sat in the garden with my eyes closed. In my mind's eye I visualised my favourite run.  I ran barefoot from North Berwick along the beach; splashing in the briny and leaving perfect Chi footprints from here to Yellowcraigs and back. I felt the sun on my face and the wind at my back (going and coming back - a delight of virtual runs!). The oystercatchers shrieked and the gannets were diving from a deep blue sky.  My muscles were strong and every bit of me was on perfect form and my mind felt clear. I could run forever.

Hope you've had a good week, free from injury of the body or mind.

Take care,

Suex

Back on the bench...

Well, seems like I was right to call canny and not push through the pain barrier. Thanks to a mid week visit to Pam at PhysioPlus (Hi Pam!) that niggling not quite right sorta feeling in the hip has been diagnosed as a trochanteric bursitis. That's inflammation of that knobbly bit on the outside of your hip that crunches on the gym floor when you're doing clamshells. It's one problem I never had when I was overweight! Despite taking it easy and cutting the running right down, that hip just kept on niggling.  It didn't hurt when I did things and didn't always hurt after a run or spin class. It did hurt after running for the train with a heavy rucksack (the joys of modern work practices!). But when a yoga class had me in agony and left me feeling jangled and not right afterwards, I knew there was something that needed sorted out. That's one of my favourite things about yoga, there's no place to hide when things are out of synch, you just know.

Luckily it's fixable, I just have to rest for a few weeks and then gradually build up my exercises again.  Nothing like the calf tear where I had no idea what caused it till months afterwards.

Of course it's irritating not to be able to run in this lovely weather when the beach is soo inviting, and our walking holiday will be a bit different than planned.  It's even more annoying that I can't spin or cross train or do anything that involves lying on my side. Its a bloody nuisance that walking hurts if I do too much or carry heavy things. I can't stand for long either and sitting - well even that hurts!  And an injury that isn't helped my yoga or Pilates? Now that does not compute. Sometimes it's good to have a good moan!

But I don't have much to complain about, a few weeks and some changes and I'll be right as rain. It makes sense that it's the hips that are in the firing line now as that's where I used to get aches and pains when I first started running. When I first hit the tarmac, I used to get a sore lower back which I now know was because I was sticking my butt out (as physio Judith explained to me, equinnus foot goes with an S-shaped spine).  Then it was the calf, then the foot, then the knee and now back up to the hip. It's all gone full circle and every time I've identified a weakspot, I've worked to correct the form, strengthen the weaker bits and stop doing what aggravates it. I suspect this cycle will keep going as long as I choose not to give in and sit and watch tv!

So I'm making the most of not being able to exercise and looking at some re balancing.  I met a dear friend for lunch at the The Rocks in Dunbar (such good food and fab company!) - that's the pic at the top. I've played with the cats and enjoyed watching them discover how to get onto the shed roof. They're still mastering bird watching with very little obvious sign of actually catching anything but I'm enjoying watching them learn - lessons for me too there I think. That's Dougal at the top - he is quite magnificent and Hamish below who is unbelievably cute. Both mad as hatters as indeed are all cats.

I've done some pottering in the garden and finally got my sweet peas in and my asparagus staked. I have 2 asparagus spears, but it's too young a plant to provide anything to eat just yet. The birds are well fed and the plants are watered.

I even got time to get to The Abbey's strawberry tea. That's Mum's wonderful residential home, and no running meant I had time to go and help out on the tombola. It was a really lovely afternoon with lots of relatives and friends gathering round the residents and what a lovely bunch of folk they are. The Staff are quite wonderful and do all they can to make Mum's and her chum's lives about living not existing.  The place is currently fixated with the emergence of a clutch of young chickens from eggs incubated in the hall. There's been a buzz every time one hatched out and there's always someone sitting watching them.  It doesn't take much kindness to transform a life.

So  I'm back on the bench, waiting to get back to form, trying to be positive about not being able to exercise when there is lovely sun and NO WIND. I know that I have a  tendency to rely on exercise as a crutch to get me through the hard times and keep my body in shape. Yet again I can't do that and yet again I must really learn to get to grips with it. But as the cats melt in the sun and I head off to potter in the garden, I count my blessings.

Hope you're all having a good week and have sun where you are, What must it be like to live somewhere where it's sunny all the time!

Take care

Suex

Life after a marathon: even my recovery time is slow!

It's over a month since Lochaber and by now I'd planned to be well into the next challenge of being a Speed Queen again, training for Race for Life in June and on my way to a new 10k PB. But as ever, things haven't worked out quite as I'd expected and I've realised that marathon recovery can have a bit of a tail....

Things started off well immediately after the marathon. I had one day of being very stiff, a few days of minor aches and pains in places that don't usually hurt and then everything felt normal.  But I didn't rush back to running. For the first couple of weeks, I ran very little and focussed on mixing the activity up to get my body re-balanced. I wanted to re establish my original core fitness that stood me in great stead when I started running a few years ago.

On my first post marathon run, I felt stiff and heavy legged and it was hard work. The second run felt  more fluid, strong; I was coming back and it felt good.  Good, until the next day when my knee and my foot hurt. It was weird, neither cause any problem when I run, and I had no problem during or after the marathon. In fact they'd been fine since February when I was half way through marathon training and got my insoles.  But then I twigged; I'd done the second run au naturelle without the insoles (though still in my Brooks).  My post marathon plan had been to build up my natural unaided running as part of general base training.  This turned out to be a bad move. Those 5 miles, great though they were at the time, set me back. Lesson learnt.

So I went back to spinning, yoga and pilates and didn't run for almost a whole week. The next Thursday morning dawned beautifully sunny so it was time to get out to the beach and just see how things were panning out. This time I wore all the foot stuff, I wasn't taking any chances. Five super sunny miles, without a niggle and I even did a spot of fartlek for fun.  I felt great. Phew, back to normal. Until the next day when, yes the knee and foot started niggling.

However, things weren't as bad as before at all and quickly settled down, so I decided to cut running down to once a week, keep a spin class or two and a Pilates or yoga session. I also decided to focus more on strengthening my feet and knees. So this week I've started every morning with some feet and knee exercises and after work on Friday we  had a lovely barefoot walk on the beach. It's just impact that my tootsie's struggle with and I even managed the first (deliberate!) paddle of the year. Pretty warm it was too.

Yesterday, I did Zumba (my first for months and what fun!) and a short interval session on the treadmill. For today's treat, Ali and I got the bus to Gullane and walked the 6 and a bit miles back.  Not much of a view, but the beach was really atmospheric. Someone has fixed the coastal walk so you can get almost all the way to Gullane by land even if the tide's in. There's a lovely bit of new woodland path that I am looking forward to running soon.

So, full recovery is taking a while,  but there's no rush, I've got plenty of time. I'm just doing what feels right and going with that and not my head telling me I need to get on and achieve things.  There are some things that might never 'recover'. My feet are bigger now. Before I was a size 5, now I run in size 7s. My abnormally high arches are a little less high than they were! Will they spring back? Who knows! The other big change is how good it feels to have accomplished something despite all the struggles and obstacles. I know it's not like Everest, and I know loads of folk can run miles and miles further in much less time and then do it again the next day.  Running is about what you can do, not what other folk can do and Lochaber was my achievement; no one can ever take that away from me. Never. Ever. And that feels good.

Oh, and something else that felt good this week, I got a piece about the Lochaber Marathon in The Scottish Running Guide. Which is great cos that's where I found out about it in the first place!

Hope you've had a good week and got some quality healthy you time in too. It's so hard to make time with all the things we need to do, but we are definitely worth it!

Take care

Suex

I've run a marathon - what next???

I had one of my most favourite (and shortest!) runs ever this week.  Monday morning I just ran for the fun of it on the beach; without insoles, without gels and no thought about fuel or glycogen. I just got up, got dressed and ran. That's the first time I've done a run purely for the fun of it for months and it felt great!

I'm sure no matter how many half and full marathons I run and how fast or slow I do them, nothing will feel like the first one. I've really enjoyed the exclusive focus on running and what I've learnt from pushing myself and aiming for something that wasn't easy. And I hope very much that I'll run another marathon if I'm spared and well; but not for a wee while. For now I want to spend a bit of time doing all the things I've not had time to do and get a bit of balance back into my life and muscle - I like balance.

There's been a few things about the whole marathon thing that have driven me batty.

- Not being able to do much exercise with Ali because I had to run all the time
- Having to run to a timetable not when I want to - especially when it 's a lovely day but I can't do a run on the beach because I'm resting (AARRGGHH!!!!).
- Having to focus only on distance and forget about hills and speed, especially speed, it is my weakness
- Not being able to do spinning and running because my knee began to grumble if I did too much

The biggest thing is the time that marathon preparation takes up -- especially when it's your first one and you can't even think about cutting corners (expect the crisis type cuts!). The juggling, the wheeling and dealing to get those runs in.  Without the long runs I have so much time.  Ali and I can do lunch and get a walk on the beach.  Yesterday we cycled to Haddington and back for lunch with a dear friend.  My legs really enjoyed the change, especially my knees.

And there's the energy! That first weekend without a long run, I was up early and completely bottomed the kitchen. I was up ladders, on top of cupboards, into every nook and cranny. Our kitchen has never been so clean and the spiders have had to make do with a move to the garage.  Since the long runs stopped, the garden has been weeded and I've done swimming and aqua aerobics, the cats are all played out and I've done all sorts of stuff I've not done for months.

Finally, there's the mental space that marathon prep takes up. I still wake up at 5am planning my running schedule for the week. I'm still checking tide times and wind direction several times a day and looking to see whether I can fit a run into my work schedule. But it's a but less obsessive now and I have a bit more brain capacity for stuff that isn't running.

But of course running's not far from my thoughts. There's another reason I want time to do other things. I never captured the level of fitness I had when I ran my first half marathon, I spent most of the training sorting out my deformed feet. Plus in my training, I got loads of things wrong and many's the time I thought 'next time I'll remember to do X or Y'.  It's in my blood to learn from my mistakes (just as well given how many I make) and I never waste a learning experience (especially if it hurts) so I've decided to spend the rest of the year getting myself into good basic shape to start training for a marathon next year (I want to do Lochaber again, I loved it). I know now what bits of me I need to work on.

I've set my fitness goals for the rest of the year as:

• Taking my Chi Running deeper, which includes the Nick's Chi Running weekend in the autumn which I'm really excited about (dead chuffed to feature in Nick's roll of honour this month too!)
• Building up my basic fitness, core strength and resilience, especially the bits that struggled most with the training. A mix of Pilates and Yoga and circuit/strength work to build key muscles and strengthen joints.  And I'll get back to spin with a vengeance.
• Getting my 10k back under 55 mins and maybe even a new pb.  That should keep my inner speed queen happy!
• Reintroducing hill work. I was much slower and running felt harder without the hillwork. Like speed, it got binned so I could build up distance. I'm going to very carefully start building in some hills and get those calves back to peak condition.

The aim is to get faster, fitter and stronger by the end of the year and to re discover and develop other aspects of my running, the bits I've neglected so I could run long. I want to start marathon training next time from a stronger base using my experience of what it's all about and how my body responds.  I'll keep doing my long slow runs now and then, mainly because I really enjoy them. I just like heading off and running up the coast and back on a nice day, simples.

So, that's it. Time to get off the laurels and back onto the training schedule. Apart from my mini run, I've done a cycle ride, pilates and yoga and a couple of Gillian Reynolds shred sessions. Everything seems to be in working order, so I'm ready to go.

Lots more full and half marathons this week and some great achievements.  Whatever you're up to, be great!

Take care

Suex

You'll Never Run Alone: A thank you to those who stand and wave

The world seems a very different place since the Boston Marathon last Monday.  With the London Marathon a few hours away, there has never been a stronger sense of us runners being a global community, united not just in our love of all things running but also in our determination not to give in.

Of course we are shocked. Less than a week ago, running was in a different world from bad things. Marathons are all about being human, reaching for our dreams, a manifestation of all that is best and true of humanity - even if that isn't always pretty.  Somehow it was even more shocking because something so good and innocent was targeted by people who hate. Shocking because it happened to ordinary runners, people like me and you and millions of others all over the world dreaming of their first or their perfect marathon.  It just didn't make any sense. Why on earth would you target runners? Why?

As events unfolded, it became clear this wasn't just about runners.  Friends and family, strangers and colleagues who cheered and waved as runners reached their marathon's end were killed and mutilated.  A young boy watching his father. A restaurant manager who stood at the finishing line almost every year.  A young graduate student from China. That this horrible frightening thing had happened to the people who stand and cheer us on seemed even more unfair and grotesque.

Shock became anger. It's bad enough to do this to runners, we who have chosen to do this mad thing, but to hurt our supporters, our posse, innocent bystanders; the strangers who smile and wave and cheer us on? It just didn't compute. It seems doubly unfair.

 I thought back to Lochaber and the wonderful support of the folk who waved and smiled me over the long hard slog. The folk waiting for me at the finish line more than 5 hours later and who gave me a massive hug looking almost as pleased as I did! The marshals who made me laugh out loud and kept me safe and hydrated; the people waving from their doorsteps and windows who gave me a thumbs up or a word or two of encouragement. The group of folk who cheered as I ran towards them, making me look round before I realised they were cheering me! I felt like Mo Farah! The scouts who handed out lucozade and the lovely little girl in pink who waved from the bus stop and offered me a drink.  None of them different to the supporters in Boston.

I thought about all the support I'd got from Ali. Not just him popping up here and there to cheer me on and hand me a hot cuppa at the end. Ali who spent over 5 hours wondering if I was going to make it round or not and never let on how worried he was. Who never complained about my dark o'clock rises to run before work or commented when I walked down the stairs like I was 125 years old groaning and wincing on ever step.  The weekends eaten up by long runs followed by hours of stretching and rolling round on lumps of foam and tennis balls.  The tyranny of the training schedule which determined when we could walk or cycle and when I had to rest and eat. The timetabling of holidays round the marathon schedule.  The incessant worrying about aches, pains and pace. I'm sure there must be many times our loved ones would dearly like to tell us to sit down and have a rest, but bite their tongues.

None of us run a marathon on our own and the bombers have hurt badly the people who give so much purely to see their loved ones pursue a dream or to encourage a stranger.

The London Marathon is going to be an even more special run than usual. It is the first major marathon since Boston and it will point to the future of running across the world. Every runner out on Sunday is making a statement on behalf of every one of us who have donned trainers and hit the streets. Every person helping, supporting, waving is also making a stand against bullying and terror on behalf of us all. Everyone at the London Marathon carries with them the admiration and hopes of runners and those who support us across the world.

So yes, we are runners, we are strong and we will run on. But we are also the ones who stand and wave.  On Sunday, we will all be strong and we will be united.  Together we will honour the marathoners and their supporters from Boston, London and every other race.

Very special thoughts to Celina, Kaz, Denis, Michelle and Zoe who are running on Sunday. Remember your posse - real and virtual - are right there behind you waving you on.  Know you are strong and have a totally brilliant day!

Whether you're running or waving, have a great marathon.

Take care

Suex

Lochaber Marathon: Race Report

I can't tell you how much pleasure it was to type those 4 words. Four little words, 4 long months. 26.2 miles. I can't take the grin off my face either!

Yesterday I ran the Lochaber Marathon in 5h 14m (my Garmin said 5.11).  It was my first marathon. It was a marathon I really didn't think I'd start never mind finish.

The Lochaber Marathon is a must do marathon and a great place to do your first or any marathon.  I picked it because it's small, it's run by and for runners and it's in one of the most beautiful bits of the world.  It's also one of the oldest marathons, 2014 was its 30th year.

From the moment I registered, I knew this was the right place for me. I was nervous and sore from a long car journey and could barely walk. The prognosis was not good for running, but I was hoping for a miracle. As I registered, I felt so emotional I could have burst into tears. Would I make it to the starting line? Would I run 1 mile or 10?  But I got such a warm welcome, such a lovely smile and reassuring words from the folk on the desk that I relaxed. Whatever happened on Sunday, it was going to be okay. These lovely people would understand. All I had to do was get to the starting line.

The next day we did some gentle sight seeing, sampled local delicacies and did some gentle walking on the sands of Morar. No wonder they film so many films round this beautiful place.

On the road back, we saw the signs out for the race. I held my breath. Less than 24 hours time I might be here. The scenery was simply stunning, the road lovely and flat but it was a scarily long way. Lochaber is an out and back race and as we saw the sign for the turning point, I realised just how far I'd have to run. It silenced and humbled me.

The night before the big day, we had a seriously delicious carb loading at the Ben Nevis Inn with a view of the mighty mountain and a well deserved top rating on TripAdvisor (so good we went again to celebrate!). Then back to our room where I got my kit all paid out and ready then spent the rest of the evening trying to get my back into a runnable state. I'd forgotten my tennis ball, so instead improvised with... a turnip! A bit hard but needs must. Luckily I did remember my roller and trusty hot water bottle.

Sunday morning was wet. And cold. And windy. Here's the view from our  lovely B&B, Myrtle Bank. Not the best way to start marathon day with lashing rain and howling winds.

Given I was probably only running for a few miles I did wonder if I should just save us all a load of bother and turn back now. Wasn't I being a bit pig headed? But I'd come this far, and it would have been a real failure to have been put off by a  bit of bad weather on the big day. Especially as it was nothing like as bad as some of the weather I ran in when training.  I knew that at very least I had to start the marathon. It really didn't matter what came next. If I didn't start I'd never know what I could have achieved, and I might have wasted my one chance. Every single journey has to start with that first step.

So all porridged and vaselined up, we headed off in the pouring rain. I can't tell you how nervous I was. My mouth was dry. My tummy in knots. I was strangely quiet and introspective.  It stayed wet as the twa pipers piped us up to the start line on the shinty pitch. I went right to the back. I wanted to be out of the way, to run my race my way. Plenty of time to speed up over 26.2 miles.

We started off running through houses, along the canal and then onto the road to Mallaig - the Road to the Isles.  There were loads of lovely Marshals keeping us safe and cheering us on. It must be the friendliest race around, it was like chatting to people I meet on my runs on the beach (I did succumb to saying hello to a dog right at the end too!).  Even better, Ali was waiting for me at 4 miles to check I was okay. I was sore but not stopped in my tracks, which was progress on last Sunday when I'd had to stop at 4 miles and hobble home.

As we ran out of Fort William the views just got amazing and the sun came out. For the first time in months I was running in warm sunshine and having to think about hydration, but there were plenty of stops. I stayed at the back and got to know the small group of back runners. We were spread out which I really liked. It was like doing a normal long run, I felt no pressure to worry about anyone else or speed up or slow down. I was free to run my race, my way and enjoy the scenery and the people who came out of their houses to wave us on. I popped Danny Dreyer's Chi Running onto the ipod.

As the miles gradually racked up, I realised that pain came and went but it wasn't getting any worse.  Before I'd left I'd had a really good sorting out from Pam and Lizelle at Physio Plus so I knew that I would hurt but I also knew what was behind the pain and that this was pain that could be endured without doing me harm.

So the pain was manageable and nothing else was hurting, so I began to wonder if I could make 10 miles. At about 8 miles, the sun was shining, the loch sparkled and the air was fresh and clear. I felt I could run (slowly) forever. I knew then that I would get round even if I had to crawl. Nothing was going to stop me now, nothing. I was committed.  It was a good feeling.

For the first time since my hip seized up 3 weeks ago I began to think I might just run this marathon and it was exciting.

Now I had hope and dogged Yorkshire grit persistance, I had a strategy - to get to the end come hell or high water. I focussed on doing whatever I had to do to manage the pain and stop anything seizing up. Suddenly it didn't matter how long I took, or if I walked, hopped or jumped to the end. I was running the race I was in. Not the race I imagined, not the race I hoped for, but the race that was in the here and now. I started to really enjoy myself and go with the flow -  the pain and stretching were just matters to be dealt with. I thought about my sessions with Nick on Chi running and my Chi running chums on Facebook.

I know you read all that stuff and nod sagely, but this was serious road to Fort William enlightenment. Run the race you're in. Of course dumbo!!

As we headed past the end of the loch, past the loos and more merry Marshals, the rain began. Just light enough to be refreshing at first, a few miles later it was soaking and gusty. I quite liked the rain, I'd trained in rain, sleet and howling gales so it felt totally normal.

At the half way turning point I got a real buzz. I have a thing about getting to half way and heading home, it gives me a big psychological boost on my runs, so Lochaber suited me nicely.  I hit half way 1/2 hour quicker than my training long runs so I felt pretty positive, I know I can run 20 - maybe I could do it in 5 1/2 hours.....

A mile later everything went strange and I began to worry that I wouldn't finish. I have no idea where it came from, but about that time I experienced my own mental wall (my legs were ok).  That's when I started run/walking and when I started to wonder what was happening in my body. Had I fuelled enough, had I drunk enough? Things I never worry about when I run normally. I ate a jelly baby or two and told myself I never had to eat them again after today. I thought about my Dad. The reason I started running. Whose Parkinson's meant he was robbed of the choice of movement. Who'd be so proud of me and who would move heaven and earth to get me through.

Gradually as the next mile marker came into view and I realised I was still running (and still in 1 piece!) I got a grip. The skies began to clear and I was stretching every mile now, but every mile was a victory,  every mile was a mile I hadn't thought I could run. Every mile was nearer that finishing tape.  As I hit 20 miles I knew I was entering the unknown. At just after 21 miles, my calves started doing very strange things. It felt like a sort of popping cramp type feeling. I flashed back to my calf injury of last year and slowed right down and basically walked and ran to the end. It was frustrating, I had energy left in my legs and I had trained to speed up at the end, so a slow finish just felt wrong.  Somehow I managed to run over the finishing line 5 hours and 14 minutes after I left it.

I got a lovely hug from the woman who gave me my rather lovely medal and then from Ali along with the best cup of tea I"ve ever had. One marathon finished, against all odds.

I never thought I'd finish that marathon. For most of the last few weeks I couldn't really see much point in even starting it, but I knew that I had to at least try.  My life never goes to plan, and once I accepted that this marathon wasn't going to plan either I realised I had a choice. I could wait until everything went smoothly, or I could just make the best of what I had in front of me. I am so glad I didn't miss my chance because things weren't as I wanted them to be.

I could have done none of this without Ali who gave me support and space in just the right amount and who believed in me. Thank you Ali.

Pam and Lizelle and everyone at Physio Plus have been amazing at patching me up and keeping me going. I really thought I'd no chance until Friday morning when Pam said I'd nothing to lose by just trying. How right she was. Thank you!

And I couldn't have picked a better place to make my debut. It was the friendliest, best organised event I have attended, set in the most stunning scenery. It was small - 363 folk went over the starting line and I came 353rd.  I liked the small scale, we were real people not numbers. It was running as I love to run - doing my own thing, running along through beautiful scenery, at my own pace, not running with elbows and MAMILs shoving me out of the way.  I could wear my iPod and sing along as I ran.  It was just like doing a really long run in a beautiful place, the lovely Loch and the magnificent Ben Nevis. And I got a medal, a wee bottle of whisky and food. What more can a girl want?

So it is done. My life will never be the same again. I've started thinking about what next. I quite fancy working on my 10k time for Race for Life and I want to do some walking and cycling with Ali. I haven't ruled out another marathon, but for now I'm just savouring the delicious delight of being a marathoner. I like the sound of that.

Good luck to everyone running London next week and Manchester's coming up soon. If you can possibly get to the starting line, do it. You never know what might happen. If your race turns out different to what you'd hoped, don't despair. Run the race you get, not the one you would have liked. That way you might just find you get further than you ever thought possible.

Mileage this week? 26.2. YES!!!!

Take care

Suex