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Friday, 29 April 2016

Is an update still an update if it's late?

I had some exciting news. It turns out that I qualified to represent Great Britain at the European Championships in my age group in Austria in September. Understandably I was over the moon! My first year in triathlon and my first go at a middle distance event and I’d qualified to wear GB kit! I told everyone I could think of and considered getting it tattooed across my forehead (although did I get it tattooed the right way round so everyone could read it or backwards so I could read it in the mirror?) I chatted to some friends on twitter and we decided to book a chalet together and arrange our flights so we were all on the same one. Perfect. I’d panic about the trisuit ordering and how to get a bike into a bike box at a later date.


Then some terrible news. My beloved father-in-law - the man who got me into running passed away after running parkrun with myself, my husband and daughter. We were all with him (except my daughter) when he passed away but it was shock and a sadness and none of could believe it was quite real. People we know go into hospital to get better, not to die. Isn’t this how the world works? It can’t keep working, things can’t carry on as normal without Julian. He was a big part of it all. 


We carried on in that void between death and funeral. And in between I got an email confirming that I had been accepted to try for a Guinness World Record. And another email confirming I’d qualified to represent GB in Lisbon in a month’s time. It was completely unexpected. I’d submitted the record attempt not convinced they’d come back to me and I didn’t think I’d done well enough in the race to qualify. Completely mixed emotions and guilt for feeling excitement about it.


I’d missed a couple of long runs and my training had been a bit sporadic over 2 weeks while we went between hospital and homes but I was worrying about it more than I should. There are always bits missed in a marathon training cycle through injury or a cough or cold or sometimes it just doesn’t fit in life. Also a friend who had been training hard for her marathon pulled out at 8 miles due to injury. It was a sensible decision but still so disappointing as I’d been looking forward to celebrating her achievement. A family bike tour had to be cancelled. A skiing lesson I’d been planning. But worst of all was not knowing what to do for close family and not being able to phone up Julian and say “Guess what’s happened! My Guinness World Record Attempt has been agreed!” or “I’ve qualified for Lisbon!”. It’s the gaps that are left. The news you can’t share and the phone calls you can’t make. 


In the meantime, I had another lovely ‘high’ – the purchase (raiding savings) of a new carbon bike and 2 lows – Dad’s cancer has come back and he has an op scheduled and Mum needing to go in for a brain scan. Good news about the cancer is that it appears to be slow growing although we’ll have more news after the op and good news about the scan, a brain has been found and no serious problems were seen although mum can’t drive for 3 months. She suggested cycling to dad’s op but I queried how she was going to get dad there ... in a cart on the back possibly?


In the meantime, everything else is carrying on. London Marathon is getting closer – only 4 days away now. I need to pick up my number this week and the week after I have my first triathlon and competitive open water swim of the year. Things move on. So I have to as well.

Wednesday, 27 April 2016

The Swimmer: 4 Outdoor Swims in February Separated by Cake and a Half Marathon

So Liz and I had an adventure. 

A swimming adventure.
A running adventure.
A freezing-cold no-wetsuits-allowed adventure.
An adventure with cake and swans and rivers and lakes and lidos.

Liz and Me!
See that gorgeous looking bakery behind us ... that's where we all met up!
Our adventure was The Swimmer, a 13 mile run from North to South through central London which includes 4 outdoor swims. In February. You go for a (chilly) run, have a (chilly) dip, (chilly) run to the next location, have a (chilly) dip ... and so on until you reach the final (chilly) location. After which you get into the (hot) jacuzzi. 

The event happens on the 2nd Saturday of every month from autumn to spring, October to May and is inspired by the short story The Swimmer by John Cheever, which follows the progress of a man who attempts to swim home via his neighbours’ swimming pools. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect of The Swimmer and I certainly didn’t know what to pack. We were given the option to take a large bag which travels in a van and arrives at the 2nd, 3rd and 4th swims for you but you still had to carry your necessities and everything you’d need for the 1st swim. It seemed to be a fine line between trying to choose between what I would need and what I could carry on my back. I ditched the towel, having already decided to wear a trisuit (wetsuits NOT allowed) and determined I would layer up over my quick drying suit and try and dry out on the run. I also decided not to bother with a spare swimsuit or knickers and instead use the saved space for a REALLY big woolly hat and ski gloves. I saved the BIG bag for snacks and clothes to change into which didn’t involve lycra or waterproofing properties.   

The starting point was Gail’s Cafe near Hampstead Tube station. Liz and I had no idea where this cafe was and decided we’d wing it ... hoping we’d spot some obvious swimmers on the train (goggles around necks, webbed feet or gills) and our optimism paid off when we spotted some colourful running tights and a chap with a hooded top advertising some sort of ice swim. We struck up a conversation and arrived as a group at a brightly lit cafe stuffed with French cakes and ordered a hot coffee each.  

The group of people stuffed into the cafe at 7:30am was an eclectic bunch with characters ranging from experienced cold-water swimmers (including one brave chap who had swum at every event over the winter!) to runners wanting something different to their usual winter run training. And then there was me. Who enjoys swimming in (warm) lakes in the summer, while tucked snugly into a wetsuit and with a cup of coffee and biscuits waiting for me after I climbed out of the balmy waters. I suspected I might be in for a cold awakening.  However everyone was very friendly, welcoming and wanted to chat and share their swim stories. 

We eventually prised ourselves from the lovely warm cafe and wandered shivering out into the cold street for the start. It was very relaxed. After loading our big bags into the convenient van, loading our essential kit bags onto our backs and adjusting the swimsuits under our clothes - and hoping they didn’t chafe or rub – we set off at a gentle run pace through the prettier parts of Hampstead.

We soon came onto the heath proper, undulating trails and tree-shaded paths. It was cold, but gorgeous and early enough to only see the hardcore runners and the occasional dog walker. The run was short and we arrived at the Hampstead natural ponds within about ten minutes. These are 3 ponds of the 30 in the Hampstead Heath area dug in the 17th & 18th centuries as reservoirs and fed by the headwater springs of the River Fleet.

Yes .. it was still VERY early ...
Two of the three ponds are for single-sex bathing and we were to swim at the Men’s Ponds. To get to these you enter via the old fashioned open-air changing rooms. It felt very Victorian which added to the charm and the ladies were told to avert their eyes while moving through the men’s changing section. 

Not knowing what to expect of the swim, what to bring, I’d decided to wear a trisuit (basically a swimsuit with legs used for triathlon) and layer up over the top of it for the runs. So neoprene cap, trisuit and goggles ... and my waterproof camera on a strap on my head. Coming out of the wooden changing rooms, the pools lay in front of us, quiet and serene.  To get into the pools, you walked along a long wooden-planked boardwalk and descended into the quiet water via steps.

I was expecting a burning, freezing cold but this wasn’t what it was like. It was chill and greenly opaque but not painfully cold but I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to warm up to run. Could I run after a cold swim? I’d certainly find out. 

After my swim and wearing ALL the clothes.
I didn’t stay in for long. I’d had my dip and aware that it was early February and I had limited experience of cold water swimming, I clambered out using the steps and made my way up to the charming wooden changing rooms to layer up my clothes.  

It was a relaxed 1 mile run to the next swim at the Parliament Hill Lido. Having chatted to the others, they’d told me that this swim was the toughest as you hadn’t been running for long enough to warm up on the run from the swim at the pools. The lido was built low to the ground and as you ran towards it through the park, Parliament Hill was visible on the right, usually seen by a club runner with hundreds of cross country runners descending it with spikes churning the ground and breath huffing out into the chill air. The lido lay grey and regal in its 1930s style waiting for us all top come in and enter the cool blue water. It was built in 1938 and is open all year round. You can quite easily imagine bright 1930s and 40s posters of brightly capped swimmers splashing through the blue waters. It feels old-fashioned and lovely, the age of proper swimmers with floral caps and vintage swimsuits. The lido is Grade 2 listed and when it was built in 1938 it cost £34,000 – a great cost at that time for a lido. 

Guess where ...

I stepped from under the stone entryway and entered the lido via the swimming-pool-style steps. The coolness of the water took my breath away in a way the pond hadn’t. Maybe it looking similar to an indoor swimming pool had made me expect the warmth of a pool, but the clear blue waters were deceptively chill. I swam down to the 2nd set of steps in a slow crawl putting my face in the water. Swimming in an outdoor pool as an adult was new to me. It was strange swimming in cold waters as clear as these and the thick paint on the stone sides took me back to my childhood and swimming in the outdoor pool in Street with my sister while my Auntie and Uncle watched from the picnic blanket on the grass at the poolside. I remember those summer days at Street as always hot and the ice cream as the most delicious and the jerk of nostalgia was strong.

I made a beginners’ error after my swim and taking advantage of available showers, stepped briefly under the strong hot water before remembering that this was exactly what you shouldn’t do after an outdoor swim as apparently it brings the blood to your skin and can make you lightheaded. Not what you need when you still have 11 miles to run and 2 outdoors swims to go. I hastily turned the shower to cold and stood under it for a few minutes, bringing the coolness back to my chill skin. 

The dash for the bananas ...

I layered my clothes on top of my drying trisuit, buff on neck, gloves on hands and hat on head and went to join the other swimrunners at the front of the lido for a banana and a drink.

It was 5 miles to the next swim in the Serpentine and the group of runners spread out as people took advantage of the longer distance to chat and relax into their easy paces. We had a brief stop at Primrose Hill for photographs and I popped my video camera on to try to film some of the route as I ran. It was a lovely run, past London Zoo, past bemused early morning walkers and across some busy roads but people clapped as we passed, cars let us cross – except for the taxis of course – and small children stared as we zipped past them on our soft-soled running shoes.

Primrose Hill (Beautiful but VERY cold!)

We chatted as we ran. One lady was training for Brighton marathon and was on for her 4 hour goal ... having missed it by mere seconds last time, another swimrunner was an obstacle course racer – but wanted a change from the mud and furious paced runs today, others were speedy marathoners and dedicated ultrarunners. It was a real mix but the common thing was that everyone was friendly and welcoming. It really did seem true that the message on the website “If you’re nice, you’ll fit in” was true. 

We ran through Hyde Park, full of horse tracks and feeling not at all as if it were in Central London and crossed the river to arrive at The Serpentine, a 40 acre recreational lake which takes its name from the curving snakelike shape – despite having only one bend.  We were swimming at Lansbury’s Lido which was opened in 1930 and this morning was being patrolled only by swans, no swimmers.

The changing rooms weren’t open yet so the women braved the grassy banks decorated with winter twigs and green swan poo to get changed, while the men stood on the cold pavement to disrobe. Head down, removing layers and relieved again to be wearing my trisuit and not have to show my white winter skin to the cold rain, biting wind or occasional dog walker, I put on my neoprene swim hat, adjusted my goggles and went to brave The Serpentine. The water was cold and green and there were beady-eyed swans between me and where I wanted to get out. The water was cold but in February I should have expected this. The water had originally come from the River Westbourne and Tyburn Brook and then pumped from the Thames, but it now comes from three boreholes within Hyde Park rather than the Arctic Ocean … which is what it felt like. After avoiding an iceberg or two, I tried to get out but this wasn’t as easy as it looked. Avoiding the swans, I tried to climb the sides but they appeared to be coated in glass and grease and I slid backwards. My fellow swimmers were having the same problems. The swans were laughing. 

Finally extricating myself from the water, I layered up, caked up and got started on the final 6 miles to the Rockwell Lido. The swims were only part of the attraction of our swim-run adventure, the chat and the camaraderie between the runners, passing London Zoo, navigating the busy-ness of Knightsbridge and Clapham Common and the sharing of  stories were what made our mid-February pan-London journey.  

Powered by chatter and cake, we arrived at Brockwell Park and the Grade II listed lido came into sight. The Brockwell Lido looks very similar to Parliament Hill Lido and both had the same designers; Harry Rowbotham and TL Smithson. Brockwell Lido was built in 1937 to replace the bathing pond but closed in 1990 re-opening again in 1994 after a local campaign and is now open every day, all year round. 

I was looking forward to my final swim, sad that my mini-adventure was over but I’d heard rumours on the run. Interesting rumours about massive breakfasts and a hot tub. These sort of rumours are especially interesting to someone who had an early start, 4 cold - but enjoyable - swims and a 13 mile trot through London.

I stepped into the Brockwell Lido, carefully using the shiny silver steps and adjusting my swimming cap, feeling as though I was a 1930s lady in one of the posters stepping into the inviting blue waters of a lovely pool. It was quite a shock that the water wasn’t half as warm as it looked, but the naughty joy of swimming outdoors in February under a winter sky quite made up for that. 

And the rumours about the lido having a hot tub were quite true.

Fancy a go at the Swimmer? Open from Autumn to Spring, it’s £20 entry including, guided 13 mile run, 4 swims, cake and bananas. More info here: 

Information from here: 

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

Injinji Spectrum Review: Hawaiian Socks, Floating Toenails & Why I Use Them

Injinji have just brought out the Spectrum range of brightly coloured toe socks and I was asked if I would review them. I’m already a convert to toe socks, using them for most of my ultras and enjoy the opportunity to freak people out with my monkey feet. I therefore said yes very loudly. 

I’m already a convert to toe socks for running long distances.

I find them super-comfortable - no seams and having the fabric between my toes stops blisters there. Also in true ‘glamourous ultra running’ style I find that running long distance makes my feet swell up. (Told you I was glam, right?) Toe socks allow my feet to expand and means I can spread my toes out a bit more in my shoes. And as well as improved comfort this also means I get to keep more of my long-suffering toenails. 

I also wore ONE pair of socks in the Autumn 100. Injinji toe socks. (And yes I’ve already warned you about how sexy I am. I know. ONE pair of socks for 100 miles. Whiffy.) 

However, all my toe socks are in the ‘don’t-show’the-mud-and-pus’ blue or the ‘don’t-show-the-blood-and-toenails' grey colours, so I was quite chuffed to get my hands on the brightly coloured Spectrum range. It also gave me an excuse to get a couple of long runs in and a reason to take off my shoes to show off my new awesome socks. Showoff? Moi? (Pssst. Have you seen my socks?)

And just to annoy the OCD among us I've slightly off centred the tiles ...

Benefits of the Injinji Spectrum
  • They pretty much eliminate between-toe blisters.  Don’t have to tape & retape feet in races or apply massive dollops of nappy-rash cream which incidentally is almost impossible to get off a green carpet.
  • Lovely having pretty socks. I know this shouldn’t be important but nice kit makes me feel better. There’s definitely a place for more muted colours (funeral runs, library runs, Saltmarsh 75 ...), but I prefer the bright colours.
  • The socks are comfortable. No visible seams and you don’t have to adjust the fit or move them every few miles. The Injinji socks are also still comfortable even when they’ve been worn and worn and washed and washed. I’ve washed my Spectrum pairs 6 - 8 times each and they’ve stayed comfy and in shape. More than can be said for my feet. (However this isn’t down to the socks ...)
  • I wasn’t sure about the low-rise ‘no-show’ profile but because the socks are held in place on your feet by the toe sleeves, they don’t shift or drop down in your shoes. 
  • I wore 1 pair of Injinji socks for a 100 mile race. I can’t even tell which pair as they’re not obviously worn or damaged. These socks stand up to a lot of abuse. I only ended up with 1 blister. Although it was a pretty impressive one. And had a toenail floating in it.

After 6 - 8 wears and washes they're still looking good.

  • Toe socks make your feet wider due to additional material so be wary of this if your feet swell very much on hot days or long distances. I’m ok except on the very hottest days. 
  • Slow to put them on. I wouldn’t use them for triathlons, but wouldn’t go without them for ultra marathons. 
  • Some people are freaked out by monkey feet. However you can embrace this and use it to freak out your competitors. Make sure you know where you left your trainers though. 
  • As my Injinji Spectrum socks are low rise I have to actually take my shoes off to show them off. (I actually did this at Silverstone and then moaned about grit getting in my shoes. Yep. Am idiot)
  • The Spectrum colour is supposed to be fade and distortion resistant but there are areas on the socks that have slightly faded on several of the pairs slightly. However it is very slight and this is after probably 6 or 8 washes. 
  • I’m tempted by a Hawaiian pair of the Spectrum socks. I shouldn’t be allowed to wear Hawaiian clothes as this leads to me drinking cocktails and wearing grass skirts. Bad. 

Some wear, fade on the heels.

Get your own here. Or buy me the Hawaiian pair. (Yes I’m looking at YOU, Auntie Jen who always asks me what I want for my birthday). 

Thursday, 17 March 2016

Silverstone Half Marathon Report: Never Trust a Zombie

I desperately held onto the car door as the slavering zombie on the other side tried to get into the car to get at me. This was the worst race start EVER. I’d woken up to find my friends had left me behind and now there were ZOMBIES stopping me getting to the start of Silverstone Half Marathon. 

And then I’d woken up. To a thankfully zombie-free bedroom. 

It didn’t matter how the race went today; terrible pacing, forgetting my gels ... even losing a trainer wouldn’t be so bad ... at least I would be able to say with absolute certainty there would be no evil dead trying to eat me.

Despite my lets-be-positive thoughts, the drive was very much like the start of a horror film, with thick fog and misty lanes meaning that fog lights and a slow start were a certainty. Not having an undead-killing-axe, I kept the car doors locked. The roads however were fairly clear and it was an easy drive until the slow down on the A43 as we got closer to the race circuit. However, the race organisers had anticipated this and we were directed smoothly through Silverstone village, through fields and onto service roads and the car was parked within 20 minutes.

The forecast had been for a very warm day ...warm for for March in England anyway. But it was currently very cold. And I badly needed to pee. I had the difficult job of trying to judge the balance between ‘not leaving it to late in case of a loo queue’ and ‘not getting out a nice warm car too early’. 

So close ... yet still TWENTY MINUTES away ...
Hopped out of the car and spotted 3 portaloos at the end of the car park, with a queue already snaking back 100m. With a good selection of non-runners in the queue. Grrr. While I appreciate that non-runners ALSO have to pee, there is nothing like pre-race nerves to make the runners need the loo just a little more urgently. I’m a firm advocate of non-runners having to cross their legs until the race starts and THEN using the suddenly-empty toilets. 

Yep. I’m a Toilet Nazi.  

Despite my mutterings about non-runners in MY toilet queue, I WAS pleased I’d remembered my nice warm hoody, my extra thick buff and my gloves ... but I was still freezing. Standing still in a chilly car park waiting to pee does nothing for my pre-race nerves. Or pre-race temper. Especially when it’s pre-coffee time. And when there’s no guaranteed supply of toilet roll. 

20 minutes passed with glacial slowness. I was going to pee my pants in a minute. And probably be grateful for the warmth. I started shivering and debating internally whether it would be bad taste to bellow: “PEE QUICKER!!! It’s bloody freezing out here!” 

Please, Race Directors .,.. more toilets! Loo queues so long you can strike up lifelong friendships AREN’T a selling point! Even if it does slightly calm the nerves bitching about the expected lack of loo roll and blocked toilets. 

I eventually made my way into and out of The Poo Tardis and collected my kit from the car. As usual, the bigger the drop bag, the more I feel I need to fill it with. With the size of the Silverstone HM kit bag I could survive 2 ultras and an overnight camp.

Hooray! Loz and Rae are here!!

As per usual as soon as I got the race start I needed another wee. It’s like a pavlovian response – I see a banner proclaiming ‘start’ and I immediately start hopping around desperate for the loo. I’d probably even get this after days of dehydration. Luckily Rae and Loz deduced where I’d be and after I finally exited they spotted me and we did our pre-race ritual of ‘bananas all round’ like a circle of lycra-clad chimps. Also spotted Danny whose race Hope 24 I’d enjoyed supporting at last year (instead of ‘supporting’ read ‘eating snacks at’) who was also racing today.

It was still a chilly morning so I was loath to undress but I was concerned about having time to do a warm up (get me - all keen!) and how long I’d have to wait to hand my kit bag in but it was seamless. Walk up – hand kit bag over. Done. I’d handed in my lovely toasty gloves and warm jumper but I had my bin bag so I popped it on doing my finest impression of a bag lady with a lycra fetish. But I was a WARM bag lady with a lycra fetish.   

People started moving towards the start pens, but there was no space in the race village to warm up – it was just too busy. But I needn’t have worried as there was a nice smooth area of track behind the start pens that I could use for my warm up. I tried to do this in my bin bag but the rustling made me sound like I was herding snakes so I took it off and held it like a black plastic security blanket. Did the usual drills, bit of high knees, back kicks. Didn't trust myself to grapevine or run backwards as my coordination is shocking even when I'm not nervous at the start of a race. No point damaging myself before I’d even started. If it all went to hell during the race I could always PRETEND to fall down and break my leg but I didn’t really want to do this by accident before the starters gun even went off.  

I found a nice spot in the correct timing pen and after huffing at the men spotting the girl in their starting pen *gasp - the cheek!* and positioning themselves in front of me as they’d ‘automatically be quicker’, I spotted another girl who was wearing one pink trainer and one green trainer. Tapped her on shoulder to ask about them. Apparently they were a pair rather than an accident. I know it's bad form to buy shoes judging on whether they're 'pretty' or not but I thought these were great!

I’d set my watch up to pace the run at between 6:45min/miles and 7:15min/miles. I haven’t done any road racing for about 2 years so didn’t have a clue how I’d feel and I didn’t know whether the lack of running miles would be a problem. I’d planned a negative split and to go out at 7:15 min/miles which would be about a 1:35 half marathon but decided to go for broke. And decided to see how far I was from my PB. Hell. I could always walk it in, right?

… why does it always seem a good idea to do something different and new about 10 minutes before the race starts??

At the start. Not sure why they're all saluting. Maybe it was a 'hands up who wants a PB' poll that I missed.

As always at the start of any race, it feels like the whole field streams past me. I know I started in the right place and in the right pen but it’s difficult to ignore people and trust your own pace, run your own race … especially when it feels like you're going backwards. I was also slightly concerned that 50% of my pre-race nightmare had come true ... everyone appeared to have left me. I started looking nervously around for the zombies. 

Right. Check watch. Yep. On pace. But I started worrying and doubting my watch when it told me I was running 7:03 m/miles but the mile markers told me 7:22s. That was a big gap. However, it had been so long since I ran a road race I'd made a rookie error and forgotten about the gap between the start time and the time crossing the line. I didn't even twig until about 5 miles in. Just assumed I was miles off pace but all I could do was judge it by my own running watch. Glad I didn't try to speed up to reclaim those seconds. 

Absolutely no wee-ing allowed at this race. Ever.

I settled into the run a bit more and started to take notice of the runners around me; lady in a pink top, man in a yellow top and a man in a cancer for children top all were with me most of the way although I lost them and they lost me every now and then, we were all running a similar pace. We passed more people than we were passed by … probably all the enthusiastic positive-splitters at the start but I did do a double take when I was passed by a man with a cigarette behind his ear ... Then realised it was the white end of his sunglasses. Phew! 

We all got passed by a man wearing an orange jumpsuit and a space helmet covering his entire head. He was speeding past everyone and despite the heat and his heavy clothes, we didn't see him again. Must have knocked in a brilliant time. Also saw Tony Bowe, a club friend, 100 marathoner and ultra runner ahead of me at about 6 miles. He was going for a faster time than his half marathon the previous week and was storming it - was about 6 minutes up on his time but the heat was making it tough. Hope he hit it! Also got some proper belting cheers from Mac about 8 miles! Thanks Lovely!

I remember running Silverstone Half Marathon in 2013 and finding it so SO hard. I’d had a horrible virus and and was feeling dreadful and thoroughly hated it. It was a lot easier this time, no real headwinds and I didn't feel like I needed to lie down every mile (it was a hellish race last time) and this year I thoroughly enjoyed it up until about 9 miles. At which point I wanted to lie down. Standard in a half marathon I think. Last time I was on antibiotics and felt really tired and sick but really needed the time to estimate my marathon time for Paris. I remember I’d started fading from mile 4 (not surprising considering how I felt) but had still managed a 2 minute PB on my previous best time. 

I was using the Torq banoffee gels (thanks to a Wiggle voucher sent by TD Investing) as my race fuel and they were really tasty - it was like having a mini pudding to look forward to. I was finding that I needed water to have them with but this wasn’t a problem as I carry a bottle of water with me on half marathons and marathons like a little sloshy security blanket. The gels were amazing but very sticky and since I have a hatred of littering, I stuck the packets back in my race belt and managed to stick everything to my phone which was also in there. If I really started struggling, I could crack open a gel and stick myself to a faster runner passing by. 

I was really pleased with my pacing as had been knocking out steady 7:03 and 7:04 min/ miles and it was about this point when I slowed to grab a water and only dropped a second that I realised that the watch was on average pace overall not average pace per mile. Argh! So I'd actually slowed a LOT to drop that overall. Bugger. I found out afterwards that my miles were reasonably even apart from mile 12 which I dropped a lot of time – about 20 secs for this mile alone. I’d used a new setting on the watch ... yes, yes I know ... nothing new on race day and set up a 13.1 ‘workout’ but I didn’t realise that this option knocked out the average miles and the laps. Frustrating to find this out late in the race. And if I’d known I had slowed this much, I’d like to think I would have been able to pick the pace back up. Never mind. At least I found out before any big races. 

I would also be using my ‘it was a warm day’ to excuse my slacking in the last mile. Apparently it was the hottest Silverstone Half Marathon ever … but it was hardly 30 degrees and heatstroke weather. However, I did appear to be working on my sun tan early this year with my race vest outlined in red on my usually pasty white shoulders. I also had a matching red nose. This running is SO glamourous. Don’t believe ANY runner that says they run to keep in shape unless that shape is a badly chafed, toenail-less, sunburned kind of a shape. 

The Silverstone racecourse is almost entirely flat apart from some slight inclines and some very short sharp bumps where it crosses bridges over the track and and I'd been careful to take the corners really tight. There was a fair amount of space between the runners and it was fairly easy to keep it tight and take the shortest line, so it was gutting when my watch ticked over the magical 13.1 distance when there was clearly still about 400m to go. I could see the digital clock over the finish line and when it ticked over 1 hour 34 minutes I knew it would be close to me getting a PB today … if only I could remember how long it took me to cross the line at the start …!

I really gave it some welly (you can take the girl out of Dorset …) but even going at my best just-cross-the-damn-finish-line-and-get-done speed I was pretty sure I’d missed my previous PB time. 

Longest. Sprint. Ever. 

Chip removed, medal attained and over-priced finishers photograph taken I went to claim my baggage. More specifically items in my baggage. Even MORE specifically the PB creme egg in my baggage. 

I may not have been sure of my finishers time, but I was damn sure I’d run under a 7:08 min/mile pace. Which was most certainly a pace PB.

I’d like to say I enjoyed the creme egg. But it didn’t really have a chance to reach my taste buds. I practically inhaled it. 

Best creme egg EVER. 

3.5 minute course PB. 
Pace PB: 7:06 min/miles
Time: 1:34:21

Also thanks to TD Investing who sent out £100 Wiggle voucher which meant I could buy some gels and the top I was wearing (among other kit!). Much appreciated! They sent out several to runners and triathletes on Twitter and I was one of the lucky ones!

Fitness Stats - 72% of People Don't Record Their Goals

I enjoy a good list of facts especially when there are some statistics thrown in there and even more so when they’re about fitness. When I saw this one from Anax Fitness I found some of the facts quite surprising.

72% of people don’t work to a training plan or record goals! I was really surprised. How can they tell if they’re progressing? How will they know if they’re getting fitter? It would find it really difficult to keep motivated about going to the gym … I can see why gyms get quieter after the rush of new year resolution memberships in January. 

I probably only go to the gym 2 or 3 times a week, no more but when I do I have to make sure I know exactly what I’m doing and preferably have it written down. If I have no plan, I drift aimlessly from machine to machine not really achieving much. If I write a plan before I go I work much harder as my visit has a point ... otherwise what’s to stop me pressing the off button on the treadmill when I get a little bit tired? It makes it so much harder to stay motivated!  

Average Joe Fitness And Gym Survey 2016 - Anax Fitness 
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I spoke to some friends about this as I wondered whether being used to training towards races and training to maintain my weight (after being 5 stone heavier previously) has made me look at fitness in a different way. 

Some of their answers:
  • “I go because I know it’s better than lying on the sofa.”
  • “I have a step tracker but it’s more for information. It doesn’t make me do anything else I wouldn’t have done anyway.”
  •  “I go on the machine for ages then it tells me I’ve burned 300 calories, my legs are battered and that’s only a packet of crisps worth of food I’ve earned. So I don’t bother now.”

It was really interesting to hear their views and to see how they differed from mine and interesting to see the difference between working from a targeted plan and not having a plan – doing it because it is something that you ‘should’ do. And it was very much this – they felt they SHOULD do it but didn’t really want to. 

I do my sessions because I know it will make my races easier (the races are the fun bits!) and that – a lot of the time - I will enjoy the sessions while I’m doing them and I KNOW I will enjoy the sense of satisfaction afterwards. It’s rare I don’t have a race planned in – I use these as mini goals to keep me motivated and to keep the momentum going ... and I’m lucky that I have a partner who has similar motivations and who understands mine!

What do you do? Do you have a plan when you go the gym? I’d be really interested to hear!

p.s. Anax Fitness emailed me a copy of the infographic as they thought I might be interested but I wanted to pop it on here that it was sent to me as it contains a link and advertising for their site and products :) Didn't take any money or anything ... just quite enjoyed the stats!

Friday, 11 March 2016

Dr Zak's: Is Salted Caramel Peanut Butter A Thing??

Review: I was sent the peanut butter to review. I said exactly what I thought and I wasn't paid to review it ... trust me, I'm a triathlete.

Peanut butter is peanut butter. You can have it sweetened or unsweetened, crunchy or smooth. That’s pretty much it. ISn’t it?

Then I was asked if I wanted to try some of the Doctor Zak’s. I wasn’t too bothered ... peanut butter is peanut butter. Apart from finding new hand-to-mouth-receptacles to put it on, there’s not much more to comment on than the crunchy/smooth, sweet/not-sweet choices. Right?

Nope. Now Doctor Zaks have added a new twist. Flavours to the peanut butters ...

*Drools all over self*

I chose White Chocolate & Coconut and Salted Caramel to try.


Yep. They’re that good. I like peanut butter, it makes eating a banana more interesting and I have an amazing white fish, coconut milk, peanut butter combination that I cook up regularly but it wasn’t not my go-to food after a run. But now it is.

I really like this. I’m quite picky about my food but this is a product I’ll definitely be buying again. 

Good Points: 
  • The peanut butter contains 36g of protein per 100g (tuna contains 23.5g per 100g) and uses partially-hydrolysed whey protein isolate which means your body absorbs this faster.
  • It gives me a sweet kick after a run for relatively few calories (and low in sugar at 1.6g per serving) and it’s satisfying. This is a big thing for me as I’m more than capable of clearing the fridge after a long session ‘as a snack’ and then having a ‘proper’ meal afterwards. And it’s easy to stick on a rice cake and scoff.
  • Simple ingredients list. Not as simple as the MyProtein peanut butter I like but all things that I’ve heard of.  
  • Free from palm oil & artificial sweeteners & Vegetarian Society approved. It’s sweetened with fruit extracts and is also low in salt. 

Not So Good Points: 
  • Genuinely unable to choose between the two flavours so end up with a half-and-half rice cake or two.
  • It’s expensive at £6.99 for a 450g jar compared to off-the-shelf peanut butters, but cheap compared to a sack of protein powder. 
  • The flavours have different consistencies, one is a lot runnier than the other but this isn’t really a problem, more an observation. Make sure you stir the butter before using it as it does tend to settle. 
  • The ingredients list doesn’t give much information about the flavourings, it just says ‘White Chocolate and Coconut Flavour’.

Other Flavours Available:
Fresh Raspberry
Apple & Cinnamon
Cherry Bakewell

Fancy a try? Get it from Muscle Food.