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 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 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.

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!

Weymouth Middle Distance Triathlon & Not Being a Pillock - ADIDAS sponsored

Weymouth Middle Distance Triathlon is one of my faves. It’s always a toughie as the sea - which  looks like glass from the shore is unpredictable and the bike is hilly and the unshaded run is almost always hot. But I love it. It’s a good test of training and mental resilience. And of my ability to eat 4 gels without crying. Note: last year I failed at the not crying. But I DID eat the gels. 

This year, though? My swim and bike fitness have taken a slight knock. And by knock, I mean they’ve packed their bags, left a note, and haven’t been seen since last August. I’ve been running instead. It’s simple and it doesn’t require lugging half a garage of gear every time I travel for work. Trainers and go. Perfect.

As a result, Weymouth triathlon despite looming ever closer, was never really on my planning radar except all of a sudden it was here. And so was I. With my bike which had been sat on soft tyres and my wetsuit still hung up from the last open water swim. 

There had also been a stomach upset issue for a few days on the previous week. I’d had a beautiful test run in Weymouth on the Saturday but things didn’t feel right. The views were lovely but my tummy was grumpy. I decided to call whether I did it or not on the morning, with the decision already made about dropping it down from middle distance to sprint distance. 

Doing a long event when you're not feeling 100% or on not enough training isn’t being a hero, it’s being a pillock. I don’t want to be a pillock so a short swim, short bike and a 5km run sounded like more manageable distances. I reckoned I could get through an hour or so of a triathlon without incident.

But waking up at 0500hrs on the morning of the race, I wasn't feeling it. I get excited before my events, but I was dreading having to get into the sea. This wasn't like me, so I made the decision to skip this one. 

Triathlon will wait. There will always be another one. 

So instead, I went on an ADVENTURE RUN!

Because if things went horribly wrong mid-run, I could always call a taxi. Whereas in the triathlon, I couldn't exactly hail an Uber from the middle of the bay. 

Armed with my very reliable (cough) Garmin, I plotted a route through all the places I fancied seeing. I ran along Weymouth Promenade, picked up the Rodwell Trail (a gorgeous disused railway path), past Sandsfoot Castle and the Dripping Well, across Chesil Beach to Portland, then hopped onto the South West Coast Path for some gorgeous but brutal running.

I ran through Tout Quarry Sculpture Park, where Old Roy—an enormous stone creature with stone eyeballs woven into his fur (an old Portland legend) almost made me jump out of my skin.

 Then, the route popped me out by St George’s Church — a disused, beautiful church built of the grey Portland stone. I wandered around the gravestones and found the bomb crater which had been turned into a memorial of the headstones destroyed by the bomb.

I still wasn’t feeling 100%, but there were no pace goals, no finish lines to chase, just curiosity and sunshine. I even stopped at Portland Museum and spent a happy hour looking at shipwreck artefacts and dinosaur bones. You don’t get that in transition.

Of course, no Booker run is complete without a detour through brambles and bad decisions. I attempted a 'shortcut' into what turned out to be a thorny tunnel that ended in a chain-link fence. Cue a bit (lot) of muttering and some scrambling to get out of the thorny tunnel. Why I had thought there might be a path at the end of a bramble patch which I LITERALLY had to crawl through, I have no idea. Lessons. 

From bramble patch to prison and I passed the famous grey stones of Portland prison, then descended what might actually be the steepest hill in Britain. My quads are still holding a grudge. At the bottom, I chatted with a lovely local runner around the marina who was flying along and I carried on exploring.

Then I got stung by a bee on Chesil Beach (not a euphemism). It was breezy, it panicked, I panicked, it ended up in my top and someone got stung (me). I felt a bit bad. I like bees but it had stung me before I had even realised it was trapped so didn't have a chance to rescue it.

Sorry bee.

I stopped at the Dripping Well, where the sunlight slanted through the trees and the drops of water glittered in the light. It felt peaceful. And magical. And I felt slightly less sting-y.

Sixteen miles later, I rolled back into Weymouth. Tired, sun-kissed, salt-sweaty and absolutely chuffed. I met Mum and Auntie Jen at the beach for a cider and an ice cream, like a true athlete. Fuelling, innit.

Moral of my story?

Listen to your body. Don’t be a pillock. And sometimes, ditching the race number is the best race day decision you can make.

Triathlon can wait. But adventures? They’re always ready when you are.

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!

Dreaming of Footpaths Named One of the Top 20 Running Mum Blogs!

I’ve got some exciting news to share today — Dreaming of Footpaths has been named one of the Top 20 Running Mom Blogs on the web by Feedspot! 

I was genuinely surprised (and very honoured!) to receive the email from Anuj Agarwal, the founder of Feedspot, letting me know that my blog had been selected by their panel as one of the best out there for running mums. As someone who juggles motherhood, shift work, and squeezing in as much triathlon and running training as possible, it feels incredibly special to be recognised alongside so many inspiring women who are doing the same.

When I started writing this blog, it was a place to share the highs and lows of training, racing, and dreaming of footpaths while navigating everything that life throws at me. I never imagined it would grow into something that connects me with such a brilliant community of fellow runners, mums, and dreamers.

Being listed as one of Feedspot’s Top 20 Running Mom Blogs is not just a milestone — it’s a lovely reminder of how powerful it is to share our stories. Whether it’s fitting in 5Ks after bedtime, marathon training with a buggy in tow, or just trying to get out the door some days, we’re all doing something amazing.

If you’re new here — welcome! You can follow along on Instagram and other platforms (check the sidebar or links above). And if you’re one of the many incredible running mums out there reading this — thank you for being part of this community. Let’s keep showing the world that mums can absolutely run the world (and a few finish lines too).

Thank you again, Feedspot, for the recognition — I’ll proudly be displaying the badge on the blog and socials soon!

Here’s to more miles, more stories, and many more muddy trainers.