A Beginner’s Guide to Running Terms (What They ACTUALLY Mean) - ADIDAS

NOTE: I'm lucky enough to have been approached by ADIDAS who have invited me to be a part of their Blogger Community. This means I get to link up with other like-minded bloggers (which I take to mean other snack-obsessed runners) and they give me some ADIDAS vouchers to write my blogs … which I do anyway! Sounds like an absolute win to me!

I'm doing nothing different except adding some links to ADIDAS kit! Win win!

So you’ve decided to become a runner. Congratulations! You are now part of a noble, unhinged community who willingly spend hundreds of pounds on shoes that promise to make us slightly quicker at parkrun and who think “relaxing” means voluntarily running up a hill. Hills. Plural.

This post is fuelled by crème eggs, sarcasm, and the fact I’m currently wearing head-to-toe Adidas tracksuits (If I can’t run fast, at least I can look like I know what I’m doing.)

But before you lace up and trot off, you need to know the language. Running has its own dictionary, and like all good dictionaries, it’s mainly full of words that sound either ridiculous, misleading or like medical conditions you’d rather not discuss with your GP.

Don’t worry though … I’ve put together a handy guide to running terms, complete with their REAL meanings.

Oh Yes. Having a grand old time trying to run up hills ... *CRIES*

PB (Personal Best)

Official definition: Your fastest ever time over a certain distance.

Actual meaning: The time you’ll spend the rest of your life trying (and failing) to beat. Despite new (and ever more expensive) shoes, new (and more complicated) training plans and trying new (and ever weirder) fuels & recipes … it'll remain elusive. However, a PB is definitely more achievable if you’re wearing shiny new kit. (Cough Adidas ladies black trainers cough). It's not worked yet. But I'm no quitter … goes off to buy 67^th pair of trainers.


Fartlek

Official definition: A Swedish training method meaning “speed play.”

Actual meaning: A word that makes non-runners think you’ve joined a Dad Joke comedy club. Also, running fast until you regret it, then jogging slowly until guilt forces you to speed up again. Repeat until death. Or vomit. Or brown shorts. 


Negative Split

Official definition: Running the second half of a race faster than the first.

Actual meaning: Something your coach suggests with a straight face, as if you’re not already sweating like you've eaten your child's easter eggs and they've asked for help looking for them, by halfway through the race. Go faster? Now? HOW?

Yes. That's me at London Marathon this year getting beaten by a penguin,

Carb-Loading

Official definition: Eating extra carbohydrates before a big race to fuel your body.

Actual meaning: Pasta. So much pasta. Pasta for breakfast, pasta for lunch, pasta until your family stage an intervention and beg you to eat a vegetable. Luckily, Adidas leggings and mens tracksuits stretch far enough to accommodate your new spaghetti baby belly. 


Bonk / Hitting the Wall

Official definition: When your glycogen stores run out mid-race, leaving you exhausted.

Actual meaning: The precise moment you discover your legs are ornamental and your brain is made of soup. Minestrone soup to be precise. And you wish you were on the sofa instead with a cold beer with your slippers on and your man hoodie.


Tempo Run

Official definition: A comfortably hard effort.

Actual meaning: An oxymoron. Like describing my race photos as “pretty ugly”.

It's perfectly NORMAL to run up mountains on holiday. *cough*

Taper

Official definition: The period of reduced training before a race. 

Actual meaning: A time when you run less, eat more, and panic constantly that you’ve forgotten how to run. Symptoms include Googling “Can I lose fitness in 72 hours?” at 2am. And when fuelling sensibly involves me wondering how many crème eggs I can justify as “sensible”.

Time to dig out your walking boots and get some miles in around that marathon expo. Walking doesn't count as mileage right? Want some more kit while you're tapering? Get your hiking boots here!


Shakeout Run

Official definition: A short jog to loosen your legs before a race.

Actual meaning: A public catwalk where you parade your carefully chosen race kit while pretending not to be terrified. (Top tip: new Adidas running tops look even faster than they feel.)


Ultra

Official definition: Any race longer than a marathon.

Actual meaning: A marathon, but with more snacks. Usually entered after two glasses of wine and the phrase, “How hard can it be?” And encouragement from online friends who will join you in thinking “What the hell have I just done?” the next morning.



Garmin (or any GPS watch)

Official definition: A device that tracks pace, distance and time.

Actual meaning: A small wrist tyrant that decides your self-worth. Finishing a run feeling amazing? Wrong. Garmin says your “training status” is “detraining.” Now cry. At least my Adidas womens hoodie never judges me. It just quietly soaks up the sweat and pretends everything’s fine.

And there you have it: the secret codebook of running. You’re welcome. Next time someone brags about their negative splits or invites you to a fartlek session, you’ll know exactly what they mean (or at least how much to laugh in their face).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go “carb-load.” Which is a fancy way of saying I’ve just cooked an entire family-sized lasagne… for me. And yes, I’ll be eating it while wearing my Adidas waterproof trainers because fuelling is serious business.

She Chose It - ADIDAS

I didn’t want to be THAT mum. You know the one. Hovering on the sidelines with a clipboard and a whistle, shouting at their kid to go quicker, logging splits on a spreadsheet like a wannabe PE teacher. But with more embarrassment for the kid.

I wanted her to choose it. Not because I love it — although I do — but because I know what running gives you. What it’s given me.

Running has given me more than fitness. It’s brought me the kind of friendships that can only be forged at 7am on a frosty start line wearing your tracksuit when someone shares their jelly babies and a slightly-too-intimate story about chafing. It’s given me community. Support. The kind of unspoken solidarity where someone on the internet I've never met will send me a ‘'C'mon Booker,,, you got this!’ message just because I’ve posted a photo of myself wearing a race bib.

It’s given me the kind of moments that stay stitched into memory: running through dusk with owls overhead and deer slipping through the grass like secrets. It’s given me triumphs and disasters — and the wisdom to laugh about both. (Eventually. Usually after snacks.)

And I wanted that for her. I wanted her to have that. Not the medals or the PBs or the Strava uploads — but the magic.

But here’s the thing about the magic of running: you can’t gift it. You can’t hand it over wrapped in tissue paper with a motivational quote and a pair of Adidas ladies black trainers trainers. You have to find it. Trip over it. Breathe it in when you least expect it — somewhere between “this was a terrible idea” and “did I just fly a little bit?”

And she’s found it.

She’s running now. Really running. Not just jogging next to me asking how much longer, or walking the track at tri club with her mates because the session is technically optional if you talk fast enough. She’s running intervals. She’s flying round parkrun. She’s also twigged that if she does parkrun there's usually a cafe stop afterwards. With cake.

I think she’s felt it — that flicker of something wonderful. The sense that her legs can take her somewhere she didn’t think she could go. That she’s strong. That she’s capable. That running is hers.

And if she stops again? That’s fine. If life gets busy or chaotic or her interests take her somewhere else — that’s fine too. Because the magic doesn’t go. It just waits. Running waits. Through exams and heartbreak and stressy jobs and maybe, years from now, a little girl of her own who refuses to nap and thinks trainers are chew toys.

One day, she might lace up again and run out into the quiet and feel it: the roads and trails still hers. Her head clears. Her breath steadies. The magic is there.

She chose it. And I’m so, so glad.

I'm standing just in front of the camera with a comfy top like an Adidas women's hoodie really to snuggle her up in a hug with. 

NOTE: I'm lucky enough to have been approached by ADIDAS who have invited me to be a part of their Blogger Community. This means I get to link up with other like-minded bloggers (which I take to mean other snack-obsessed runners) and they give me some ADIDAS vouchers to write my blogs … which I do anyway! Sounds like an absolute win to me!

I'm doing nothing different except adding some links to ADIDAS kit that I'm looking at getting with my vouchers and which I think you might also like!

Coventry Way 40 Mile Run: Goopy Mud, The Predator & Gigantic Gnomes

This event is an excuse for me to run all day fuelled by pick n mix, chat to everybody I see, enjoy the Warwickshire countryside and get treated to a hot meal at the end. And all for the bargain price of about thirty quid. 

It's always at the start of April so it's off the cards if I'm racing a Spring marathon (although I may have used it as my final long run once or twice!) but it's generally a lovely pootle on some decent tracks and a paddle through the bogs. 

Despite entering the event 6 months previously, April had crept up on me. I had a moment of panic the week before thinking that my longest run leading up to it had been 12 miles. Then I remembered the 20 miles I'd run at a Big Bear event 2 months ago. 

Yep. Totally counts.

In line with my MASSIVE ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS I'd also ordered a brand new ASICS FujiTrail run pack for the event. My ancient pack had pretty much fallen apart and it didn’t fit right any more after multiple washes which were needed after having been dropped on the floors of portaloos, covered in mud and worse and generally abused. It had had a good innings but I was concerned that using it was practically germ warfare and that it was going to reach sentience faster than ChatGPT.

So I’d gone online and treated myself to an ASICS one. It had come with 2 soft flasks (I normally use a run bladder) and I liked the idea of being able to see how much fluid I was drinking and had left. Maybe I'd be a convert. Plus if the race went to hell, I could fill them with cider from one of the multiple pubs I'd be passing.

Just to cement home the idea that I was super-organised, I’d also ordered some new trail shoes. I loved my ASICS FuijiTrabuco SKY but I’d lost the insoles while using them for a swimrun event and I wasn’t sure how comfy they’d be for 40 miles without insoles. For 12 miles they were fine but 40 miles? Also they had holes in the sides. But that's just ventilation, right?

As it turned out, the new shoes didn’t turn up in time so I so dug out the old shoes. They were a bit muddy. Banged them together. Sorted. Mostly. Some of the mud fell off anyway. 

It had been raining pretty much non-stop for the last 2 weeks. It didn't bode well for a course which is 90% trails and about 10% underwater even in dry weather (Corley Moor, I'm looking at you.) As I drove towards the start, I passed a river which had flooded its banks. It looks like today was not going to be a day for dry feet. Luckily, my foot modelling days are behind me, Even the most niche market wouldn't want to see mine.

Despite all my good intentions and because the rule of the universe dictates that the closer you live to a race start, the later you'll arrive, I rocked up after all of the car park spaces had been taken and not long before the race start was due to close. Luckily, they're pretty chilled about start times and there was even time for a loo visit and a snack check. Yep, the snacks are all edible.

I've run this event probably 4 or 5 times and had managed to get lost every time. Once you get lost, you kind of glue that turning into your head. And then the next time you run the route, you're like “Yep. I definitely turn here.” So my 40 mile route turns into a 42 mile route complete with u-turns and strange little wiggles where I've corrected my route.

There was a new starting point this year. Rather than starting from the Queens Head, the race started from The Heart of England Social Club. I'd downloaded the new route to my watch last night and was confident I could navigate my way around the changes to the course.

I turned right out of the social club and down the road. Where I was promptly shouted at by the the marshal for going the wrong way. Oh. Whoops.

Testing how awake the marshals are. Cough. Yeah. They passed the test.

I did a complete u-turn and ran back up the hill.

Spring had definitely arrived in Warwickshire. There were primroses along the verges and violets on the banks and the daffodils were waving their yellow heads in the breeze. In a month or so there will be bluebells in all of the copses and then winter would definitely be gone.

But clearly the flowers thrived in an aquatic climate. It had been the wettest March in 40 years and you could tell. The trails were an absolute mudfest and the muddiest I've ever known the route to be. It was Glastonbury without the portaloos and hippies. Mississippi mud pie without the edibility. Peppa Pig would have been in heaven. 

The mud was also a constant reminder that the Poo Fairy hadn't visited today. This is never a good sign before a race. Or during a race. A 40 mile run without a change of clothes was not the place for a toilet disaster. I didn't even have a spare sock.

However, despite my concerns, I felt really good. I was in a good mood, a day of running lay ahead of me, my pockets were full of pick'n'mix. Life was good. I even ran most of the hills. Unheard of in an ultra. Some sections were just not runnable as the mud was so deep and slippery, but the rest … it was good! 

I was having a grand old day. The benefits of this race being so local was that I was seeing lots of friends from various clubs and events. Everyone I passed had a smile or a friendly greeting. It was lovely. The sun even threatened to come out from behind a cloud at one point. I wasn't sure this was a good idea. We were all so covered in mud, we'd be baked in place like the terracotta warriors. 

There was a lot of wildlife about and I heard a woodpecker in the woods. These always sound – to me -  a bit like the noise that Predator from the Predator films makes. I mean, I might be overthinking this but that's not something I really want to meet in the woods. Particularly not if there's no chopper coming to save me. Although I was wearing so much mud, I appeared to be absolutely nailing the mud scene in the film. 

And I swear - hand on heart - that I heard a bird whistling a happy hardcore tune. I'm partial to a bit of happy hardcore, particularly for speed sessions and for throwing me back down memory lane, driving my trusty gold Metro around the lanes of Dorset. Anyhow. Definitely a happy hardcore tune. I'm fairly sure I wasn't having auditory hallucinations and assumed that maybe this remote field had been the site of a rave at some point. Maybe it was a delusion brought on by too much pick'n'mix.

The aid stations were lovely and I cheerfully availed myself of the snacks. The tuna rolls were perfect for ultra running and I had 3 of these, a beef and mustard roll, a cookie, a custard crème, some wine gums and an orange slice. Perfect fare for a snackish runner. I had all of this over the 40 miles … not all at once despite the temptation to fill my pockets with goodies for the drive home. I'd filled my soft bottle with MX concentrate and was taking a salt tablet every so often. Life was good. And full of good things to eat.

I started an audiobook that I had seen recommended on TikTok which meant it could be any type of weird and wonderful. I turned on Gone to See the River Man and was swept up in a tale of sacrifice, child murder and gore. Not something I'd usually listen to but the tale was compelling and disgusting and beautifully written. The miles ticked by. 

Every now and then I'd see a friend. I saw Garry, ran with him for a bit and had a chat which was good. Saw the lovely and very accomplished Liz and ran with her for a bit. It was SO nice to have a catch up. Saw Spencer, Mark and Steve Turvey and Damian from my lovely running club, Northbrook AC. Had a chat with Sophie and Paul Albon of Big Bear Events and joined them for a section and at Brinklow I saw lots of the super people from Rugby Tri on their incredible cheer station! I had been looking forward to seeing them and this cheer station for MILES! It was a real motivator and so nice to see everyone! Had a quick chat to Martin, the incredibly funny author of 'Accidental Ironman: How Triathlon Ruined My Life'. Totally didn't recognise him with his hat on – sorry Martin! You'd clearly be an EXCELLENT spy. 

Stood up at the edge of someone's garden in one of the more remote sections of the course were two ENORMOUS garish garden gnomes. They were about the size of a 6 year old child and enough to give even the stoutest heart nightmares. Sod burglar alarms and guard dogs. Just get yourself down to the local garden centre and ask for two nightmare gnomes. 

 

There were lots of dogs on the trail today, taking advantage of the brief flashes of sunshine between the stormy clouds. I took advantage of as many strokes and pats as I could and was rewarded with a few muddy pawprints and doggy kisses. Perfect. 

I turned a corner and saw a white pile on the floor which looked rather like the piles of ash in Red Dwarf that Lister tastes before realising it's his former crewmates. I recognise this! It's flour left by the Hash House Harriers after one of their hare and hounds runs … and it reminded me. I really did need to get along to one of their beer runs soon! Love a good hash run! 

My husband also runs this event. He gets a 2 or 3 hour head start on me and I usually tend to overtake him in one of the fields just before the big aid station whereupon he smiles and tries desperately not to tell me to f**k off as I sail past him waving like a lunatic.This year I saw him at about 15 miles in, just past the aid station. He was clearly having a good run this year!

This run should have been tough and tiring and grotty and grumpy. The conditions underfoot were so clotted and muddy and flooded which slowed everything down, but today everything just worked. I had no niggle or blisters. The kit was great, the legs felt fantastic and everything was good. My prep had been poor but everything had come together to give me a lovely run. I didn't even need the marble rule today.

The parts that I usually find tough on this course; the never-ending canal section and the housing estates flew past. Everything just ticked past and the running felt easy and comfortable. Like it almost never does on ultras. Even with the ankle-deep mud and slipping around, I was having a lovely time. What horrors did the universe have hidden? Karma has to balance, right? Am I going to be involved in some dreadful weasel attack? I could see the headlines now “Plucky Ultra Runner Completes Race with Leg missing After Rabid Ferret Attack”. Or maybe I'd fall into the canal and be found 3 days later, bloated and floating along with my mouth full of pick'n'mix and my trainers looted by dog walkers.

But things carried on, mostly uneventfully. I got lost about 6 times, mostly on the old bits which I really should know by now but I turned around and got back on course. It was practically tradition by now that I get lost at least twice. Bonus miles. Didn't have to pay for these.

I saw someone I’d run the course with previously, just past the canal. Not only was he doing it again, he was doing it on crutches!! Wow! That's pretty impressive!!

I saw Spencer, Damien and Mark from Northbrook about 5 miles from the end of the course absolutely storming along with a great pace. It was great to see them and see how fresh they all looked. 

I had a run with Liz and the miles flew past. It's always lovely having a catch up when you haven't seen someone for a while and Liz had had some wonderful adventures and it was so nice hearing about them. The fields and trails flew away under our feet as we talked about pst adventures and adventures planned. We slowed a little coming up to the hill and you know that feeling when you're feeling good and just want to fly? Liz recognised it. You can go if you want, she said. So I did. I love the days when running just feels effortless and they're not to be wasted when they come along.

After Corley Moor, I always love the look of the Red Lion pub. There are usually people outside drinking nice cold pints and I'm at that point of the event where it would be nice to just sit down for a moment and enjoy a drink. But as it's 3 miles to go, I never stop. I just wish I could.

I ran on up the hill, down the familiar winding trails … and then I get the point where I can't quite remember which path to take. Luckily today there was someone to point out the hedge gap. It's a stile too … never a huge amount of fun with 39 miles in the legs (the course is a little bit long plus the bonus getting-lost miles). As soon as I see the signs for the caravan park, I know I'm practically back...

...although today I had The Fear. The Fear that as the course had been changed a bit this year and the end was different, it would be a bit longer. Not something you really want to worry about at mile 39 and change. 

I ran down the hill, passing a road closure for an accident – luckily everyone was fine! - and heading towards what I HOPED was the finish. There was a diversion off the usual course as I'd feared and I hopped into a field and around the field edge and popped out the other side onto a main road. 

Hang on. I recognise this road. Finally, the final half mile! I put on a bit of speed, passing the duck pond and turning left up a hill – which I had tried incorrectly to run DOWN first thing this morning – and in sight of the social club and the end. 

I presented myself to the table whereupon someone – after a bit of a chat – peered at the time on a digital alarm-style clock on the time and wrote my time and number down and presented me with a ticket for a drink and for a dinner which I promptly swapped for a cup of coffee and jacket potato with cheesy beans. And 2 slices of chocolate cake. Seemed a fair swap to me.

Scoffed the food in record time and went to chill out with my Northbrook buddies whereupon Spencer promptly talked me into running the Hilly Hundred which I had avoided for 7 years due to passing out and having my arse eaten by ants last time. (Hilly Hundred Race Report: Ant Arse )

After an ultra marathon, delirium had clearly set in as doing the Hilly Hundred sounded a lovely idea and I agreed and set off back to find my car which I had parked half a mile away to find I'd left the headlights on all day. 

Happy with 7hrs 41 and 1st lady. And the car started first time. 

SwimRun Training: What Has Prep Looked Like?

So the countdown to Breca is on! What has my prep looked like so far?

A typical training week for me is around 8-14hrs … but a lot of this is geared towards triathlon so there’s a lot of irrelevant stuff in there too … unless Breca suddenly decide to add a bike element!

My week is typically 3 bike sessions, 3 run sessions and 2 swims and I like to drop a few strength sessions in there as well as I HATE having to take time off for injuries. I am the most impatient patient. 

Getting ready for Breca, I’ve switched out my pool sessions for lake or sea swims where possible and I’ve made sure that I’ve done these in the wetsuit I’ll be wearing for Breca to check for any chafing, any tightness or any issues that might pop up during a race over a couple of hours. I’ve also  either done the entire swim in trainers (the looks I’ve had from the swimmers!) or I’ve done a swim first without and then done the final part of the session in trainers. When I’ve worn shoes, I’ve used a pullbuoy. I’m using a pullbuoy with straps, then if I don’t hold it tightly enough it won’t disappear off with the currents plus I can move it to the outside of my leg during the swim!

I’ve also added a post-swim run, so out of the water dripping wet and out onto the roads or trails depending on what’s nearby! I’ve had some funny looks from dog walkers recently as I dash past in a wetsuit leaving a trail of lake water in my wake!

It’s been brilliant fun! Thoroughly enjoyed it so far … just to put this training to the test!

RunMotion App: Shouty Coach or Nice Coach?

How do you tell a decent running app from one that’s not so good? There are so many available nowadays that it can be difficult to tell which one will help you achieve your goals and which ones won’t be a good investment of your time … or money.

When I got an email from RunMotion offering me a test of their app, I decided to give it a go. I had nothing to lose. The gym was closed, the country was in the middle of a pandemic, all of my events had been cancelled and anything that helped me to build up some run miles was going to be a bonus.

I’d lost pretty much all of my running motivation so accepting to test an app would mean I would HAVE to run, right?

Sorted. I gratefully accepted the invitation and downloaded the app.

TEXT MESSAGES

I was expecting the usual questionnaire on opening the app and setting it up … you know, the stuff that I HAVE to put in to get the useful stuff out at the other end … 

… but I didn’t expect the format.

RunMotion is set up so everything is in a text message format so it feels as though I’m actually having a conversation rather than mindlessly filling in boxes. And it feels much more personal.

COACH SHOUTY

Something I also liked was that I had the choice of 3 different types of coaches:

Positive Coach ‘I’ll give my best to help you reach your goals’

Philosopher Coach ‘Know yourself’ is the beginning of all wisdom’

Authoritarian Coach ‘I’m not here to waste my time’

Clearly I chose the authoritarian coach. I know myself well enough to know that if I get the option, I’ll sit around and not do much running so I need a coach – even a virtual one – that’ll tell me to get off my arse and start putting the work in. 

Even better if there’s an option that tells me to ‘Put The Cake Down’.

MUD OR ROAD

I also chose which days I could run and how many days a week I could run which is fairly in running apps, but what was different was that I could also set the type of terrain I was running on. As everyone knows there’s quite a difference between road running and trail running. Usually mud.  Lots of it. 

GOAL SETTING

Goal setting was simple. The app simply asked me ‘Why do you run’ and gave me a range of options e.g. set a PB, run for fun, running as cross training or do well in a timed test. It was nice to be able to be specific and also to have the option to run for pleasure. So many apps are end goal focused that it’s nice to have an option to NOT have that. Particularly in a year where I’m a little peeved about having all of my events cancelled from under me.

VERY peeved.

BEING CONTRARY

As a result I didn’t have an event to train for this year, but because I’m contrary I decided to put in ‘Wellness and Pleasure’ but also ‘Finisher of a Race’,

However, the app was clearly waiting for me to be a pain as it asked whether I was in lockdown and whether I’d like to prepare for a virtual race in 2021. Huh, slick. 

It even offered me a list of races …

Ok. I’m impressed.

ANY PROBLEMS?

The app is based in the French Alps and as a result the default setting is in kilometres. I tend to work in minute/miles for my running and I couldn’t find out how to change from km to miles. I asked the team and they confirmed that this option is coming shortly. However, currently it works in kilometres. 

I once did something that the app didn’t expect and it directed me to an error page with a message ‘Oups that shouldn’t be there’ text on the screen. The app does display some dubious English on occasion. But that kind of makes me like it even more. It gives the app even more character. 

If you google the app, the main website you are directed to is in French. This was a bit offputting initially as my French language skills are still around GCSE level (I can ask the way to the football stadium and get a beer but that’s about it) but there is an English version if you look a couple of search results down: Run Motion Website

SUMMARY

I found the RunMotion app very professional and easy to use. I particularly liked the text message style mentoring and goal setting as it felt informal and quite an easy way to decide on my options and what I wanted to get out of the app. 

 What I like is the simplicity. It’s easy to use and easy to change. Yet it feels personal. 

I’ve used the app for it ‘speed and explosiveness’ plan and it was easy to follow. I put the session into the training calendar I use and synched my runs from my Garmin which again was very easy to set up. In a year that has been a bit chaotic and unstructured, it has been nice not to have to think about what sessions I need to plan as it has been done for me.

The app gives you 2 weeks free to trial it and then it’s £5 a month for premium version. I liked it the app so much that I recommended my husband download it and follow a plan. He’s currently asked it to train him for the 40 mile ultra he has scheduled in April. But he’s still struggling with trying to get it to add in cake stops during his run ... Maybe that’s some feedback I’ll pass back to the developers.

ABOUT RUNMOTION

      The app is designed to be useful for all abilities from runners, from beginners to seasoned athletes and for a range of terrains from mountains to treadmills!

      Over 12OK users mainly from France at present but the app is moving into the UK, USA, Belgian and Swiss markets … 

      The app is connected to Strava and a range of different GPS watches including Garmin, Polar and Suunto.

    • Positive reviews from multiple sources: "RunMotion innovates in the way it approaches the world of running and deserves to be discovered" - Runner's World."The possibility for all runner profiles to receive personalized and practical coaching in order to progress. Tested and approved!" - Nature Trail.

If you'd like to try the app, go here RunMotion or search 'RunMotion' in the Play Store or the App Store or google. You get 2 weeks free trial.

p.s. Let me know what you think!

Dambuster Triathlon Race Report: Smug Fast Triathletes. And Me.

I’d set my alarm for 6am. I hated early starts. Then I realised that transition actually closed at 6:15. Insane. Absolutely insane. Not only do triathlons run on a Saturday but they’re insanely early. Obviously for the type of buff slick athletic type people you see on the front of magazines. The sort that like to get up early and go for a 3km swim and then don’t even sit around looking smug, but go for a bike ride as well. And then probably a run. I’d have pushed them all in the hedge except I couldn’t catch them. Smug FAST triathletes. 

I’d sighed as I’d reset the alarm for 5am. 5a-bloody-m. Ridiculous. That’s practically red-eye flight time.  It’d be much nicer to start it about 9am. Give me time to have a cooked breakfast, get the bike in the car and rock up at transition. The lake might even have warmed up a bit. And not just because of triathletes peeing in it. 

Smug Fast Triathletes. Bet they're holding their pee in ready for the lake too ...

However I resigned myself to being partially asleep until at least the start of the run and got myself in zombie-mode to the start of the race. It was about 6am and already I could smell the portaloos. I made a mental note to look at doing something competitive that involved nice smells. Like competitive baking or flower arranging. And I bet THEY didn’t involve getting up with the sunrise. Or getting kicked in the face. Unless it was REALLY competitive flower arranging. Like at the Women’s Institute and there was a fight over who got the big red peonies. Or something. 

I found myself a nice catch-22 situation. I couldn’t go into transition unless I was wearing my number. But my number needed to be left on the bike ready to be put on for the cycle leg of the triathlon. But what if I thought of something urgent last minute? And my number was on the bike instead of me? I consoled myself by wandering in and out of transition multiple times like I was on an invisible retractable leash. 

I was sure I’d forgotten something. I couldn’t remember WHAT I’d forgotten but I was sure there was something. Oh yes. I’d forgotten I didn’t like ridiculously early starts and people in wetsuits at 6am. Screw you lot. I’m going back to bed. Or I would have done if it wouldn’t have taken me about the same amount of time to load everything back into the car as it would to actually do the race.   

Transition area. So nice and peaceful before all the triathletes started cluttering it up with bikes and kit ...

There was no baggage store and we were told over the tannoy to just leave bags ‘under the trees’ in the open area of the park. I guess with all the £5,000+ bikes here, the thieves weren’t terribly interested in the £3.50 I had in change in my purse. Or my £1.38 off Tesco voucher. Despite the possibility of a free KitKat.  

The portaloos got progressively worse and the stink radius was getting wider and wider. At this rate they’d be able to smell them in Oxford by the end of the race. Apparently nervous triathletes have even worse tummies than nervous runners. And waiting in the queue hoping for a half decent one was like Russian roulette but with poo-up-the-wall and half-used toilet paper tubes instead of bullets. At least with Russian roulette you had 5 chances of not getting shot, with these toilets your desperate wish was to relieve your own stomach and come out without someone else’s diarrhoea on you. It was like hoping for a lottery win.   

And just to add to the fun, let me set the scene. You’re wearing a trisuit that does up at the front, a wetsuit that does up at the back and a jumper over the top. And you’re trapped in a small plastic cube full of other people’s poo that smells like nothing on earth. I made it out stomach relieved but mentally traumatised and with a form of PTSD which means I will never be able to go near IKEA’s plastic wardrobes without flashbacks and trembling. 

The smell wasn’t the worst thing though. Oh no. The very worst thing was seeing the end of the long zip from my wetsuit trailing down the shit encrusted hole in the portaloo. I just about managed not to cry and throw up on myself as I hauled it back out of the loo just to realise the soap and water had run out. To top it all off there was no loo roll. Not even a half ripped up toilet roll tube. But on an unrelated note Tesco receipts are quite soft. 

I made a vow that day. If Krypten factor comes back on TV, I am going to enter and WIN that. After managing to survive this, being trapped at the other end of a zipwire above a bit of nice clean mud will hold no fears. I will win that and I will be victorious. Especially if there’s a challenge involving rubber suits and being trapped in a loo. 

Swim

Looking out across the lake, it was as smooth as grey glass. Calm and beautiful ... or it was until the first wave of male triathletes got in, started weeing and stirred up all the mud on the bottom. Apparently the water temperature of Rutland Water was about 16 degrees that morning but after 3 or 4 waves of male triathletes by the time I got in it would almost be body temperature and probably about 50% urine. There would be fish bobbing to the surface. And probably a slower swimmer or two. 

Thanks to Coach Mary’s open water session, I’d practised beach starts and had already ripped off the skin on my feet practising so wasn’t worried about that. There was no more skin to rip off. However, too scared to position myself at the front in the swim next to The Proper Triathletes, I’d gone a few rows back and ended up behind people tiptoeing into the water as though they were going for a Swan Lake style swim start.  Very graceful ladies. Now get a bloody move on. 

I started drafting as soon as possible which was good but the pack of swimmers split and I lost the faster pack. The gap looked too big to make up and I had to decide whether to break out on my own or sit back and draft a slightly too slow swimmer and save my energy. I decided drafting was the best plan for me as it avoided my usual open water race strategy of:

1. Go-Off-Like-A-Rocket
2. Windmill-My-Arms
3. Get-Smacked-In-The-Face
4. Drink-Lake-Water
5. Panic 

It worked. I didn’t end up in my usual panicked state, didn’t drink any urine-laced lake water OR get kicked in the face (was this a PROPER triathlon??) but I did end up with a slower time than I’d hoped for.  

Another reason I might have been slow could have been the amount of time I spent gurning at the camera instead of getting a bloody move on ...

Cycle

As I headed out on the bike, Coach Mary, Loz and PhysioTerrorist Julie gave me a cheer and Coach Mary shouted that a friend, Jo had exited the water about a minute in front of me. “Go catch her!” 

I loved the ride. In fact, although cycling is one of my weakest disciplines (I have 3 weak triathlon disciplines), it’s the part of a triathlon I enjoy the most. After the claustrophobia of the water and the feeling of being in a dark enclosed body of water, being out on the bike is like open horizon freedom. The route was familiar and importantly I knew where the hills were. The big 3 hills of the Rutland Ripple felt smaller and not so daunting in the race and I was overtaking a lot of people here and could tell that I was picking off the faster swimmer, slower cyclist combinations. 

Hooray! Out of the pee-water!

I was really surprised to see people were walking, pushing their bikes, up the 2^nd hill in the Ripple. It is a sharp hill and a nasty surprise if you hadn’t recced the course especially after just having to push up the1^st big hill half a mile back. I didn’t have the heart to tell any of the walkers that there was another big hill coming up immediately after this one.

There was a good game of cat and mouse going on with 2 other lady cyclists near me and we were exchanging positions regularly and jockeying to be in front. I was stronger up the hills but they were stronger downhill and on the flats so it was good - ensuring I kept pushing on the flat sections. I wanted my speed to be over 18mph average even with the hilly course so it was good having them around, making sure I kept on it and didn’t slack off. We flew over the ripple and I thought we overtook Jo (who was out of the swim in front of me) just after the roundabout at about 10 miles which was a nice boost.  

 Most of the vehicles were fairly sensible and gave us plenty of space apart from a white van who boxed me in behind a man walking and pushing his bike up the hill. “C’mon shift!” I growled at the van as I didn’t want to lose my uphill momentum. Luckily White Van Man found a space to overtake and moved allowing me to go around the walker. 

Just past that bloody Range Rover

Just as we were coming into the entrance for Rutland Water I was overtaking a male cyclist and a Range Rover roared up from behind and decided to overtake us both on the wrong side of the road on a blind corner. This exemplary example of a Range Rover driver then decided to park in front of the barrier to chat to a marshal completely blocking the road and bringing me to a stop just before the race finish. The marshal appalled told him to “Move! Move!” and made him drive on while laughing at me bellowing at the driver “EXCUSE ME -MOOOOOVE!! (and having spotted the marshall and being aware of being DQ’d for improper conduct had added as an afterthought) “MOVE In a NICE way!!!” and waved me through to the end of the cycle section and transition.

Run

At work I have, what I am reliably informed is called ‘Resting Bitch Face’. In other words I’ll be sitting down in my office, trying to work out the proper wording to use in a quotation and will unintentionally give whoever is in my line of sight a death stare. Apparently. I’m completely unaware of this as I’m thinking about pneumatic training and how much discount someone should get while apparently giving a colleague a Medusa.  

However, it appears on a triathlon run I have ’Happy Run Face’. Multiple people actually smiled at me and I actually got some waves from runners coming the other way. It was nice but I couldn’t quite understand it until I realised my ‘Oh-My-God-I-hate-Running-After-Swimming-and-Cycling’ grimace was being mistaken for a smile. And my flailing arms were being mistaken for cheerful little waves. Never mind. Better ‘Happy Run Face’ than ‘Resting Bitch Face’. I didn’t want to be responsible for someone’s DNF after they mistook my RBF for an actual attempt to deathstare them out of the race. 

Obviously before 'Happy Run Face' kicked in ...

The run was hard. It was warm and I wasn’t entirely sure exactly where we were running to. This always concerns me and I’m much faster on a route I know. I suspect I have a secret fear that the race directors will extend the course an extra 4 miles and I’ll not be able to complete it. It also wasn’t the ‘pancake flat’ run I’d been told it was and while not being mountainous there were several large bumps which my tired legs told me would be MUCH more fun to walk up. “Shut up legs”. However I did see Jo coming the other way on the run which was nice so gave her a massive high five – obviously DIDN’T overtake her on the bike then! – and exchanged a few words with some other runners. I even managed a gurn for the photographer. The out section took forever but as usual the back section felt about a third as long as the out. I even managed a decent sprint finish and a negative split. 

Oh my God I'm going to DIE. And throw up. And cry. 

I hit almost all of the targets I’d set myself for this triathlon but training on your own is very good for creating a mini ego bubble as you don’t get to compare yourself to anyone else. I go for a bike ride around my local route and think “Ooh I did 17mph on that ride – much better than when I started on the road bike 4 months ago! I am getting fast!” And then you enter a race like Dambuster and you realise that it’s only fast for you. People were flying past me like I was on my granny shopper with a basket and Yorkshire terrier on the front. I was over 18mph on the bike which I was very pleased with but I was the bottom half of the pack. My swim was good – for ME. But I was near the back. For the run I was top 10 in my age category ... but not overall and not even in the females. It gave me a wobble when I realised. Huh, I’m not particularly good after all.

This is good. 

What would be the point of taking up a sport and training for 6 months and being near the front? Not only would that devalue the work and effort of the ladies who have been doing this for years, but it wouldn’t be worth my effort either. It would like starting running and being able to do a 5k in 18 minutes. Where would be the challenge? 

So time to work a bit harder. I hit my goals, didn’t die and now I’ve got a brand new set of FASTER targets. *Shakes fist at Coach Mary*

Dambuster targets

Target Swim: 28 – 35

Actual Swim: 31:14

Target  Transition 1: 2 mins

Actual Transition 1: 2:04

Target Cycle: 1:19 – 1:30

Actual Cycle: 1:23:25

Target Transition 2: 2 mins

Actual Transition 2: 1:20

Target Run: 38 mins – 45 mins

 Actual Run: 45:11

Position overall     491 of 754

Position female     78 of 163

Position 35-39 female     15 of 23