Running on Empty Launch Party

2007-05-04T11:55:00.000+01:00

And the Winner is....

.... Rivergirlie with this very funny account of doing a half marathon Sun Walk.

Ok so it's not a running story - but I did the half marathon power walk last year in Bristol, the sunwalk - raising money for breast cancer charities.this is the poor relation of the playtex moonwalk and, like it's sibling,demands that all participants wear a decorated bra for the duration.

I walked with a team of about 11 friends. we sort of trained together, but not very assiduously. after all, walking 13 miles isn't that much of a stretch, but in terms of ability and fitness, Iwas very much the middle of the pack. How, then, did I come to finish first in my group, and by quite a large margin?

Rewind to the bit about decorated bras. Now, despite the fact that I was educated by nuns, I'm really not that gifted with the needle. in fact, Ivebeen known to turn up hems using staples and the one time I sewed my daughter's brownie badges on her sash, people congratulated me for having let her do it herself. I'd sooner throw out a shirt than sew on a button. Sorry sister Berchmanns, but that's the way it is.

Anyway, as you'll can see from the picture, the team decided on a hawaiian theme. grass skirt, flowers in hair, and little fabric flowers tob e sewn - yes, sewn onto bra. Problem. I simply couldn't be arsed to do it.I could see staples probably weren't a good idea, so I went along to a haberdashers (we still have those in Stratford) and bought some fabric glue. Problem solved. My bra was resplendent. I was good to go.But one thing i hadn't counted on was rain. oh, and sweat too. And the effect of damp on fabric glue...

Well, Im sure you can imagine. by halfway round the course, autumn had come early and my bra was rapidly defoliating. A little trail of fabric flowers bedecked the pavement behind me and I was now, basically, walking the streets in my (damp and therefore transparent) undies.

It's amazing, you know, the burst of speed that walking around a major city with your tits out can bring. I zoomed past the other contestants. I was a blur of speed - at least I bloody well hope Iwas. cos the faster I got round that course, the sooner I could get back to my car and get a t-shirt on.

And that, my dears, is how I came to walk the half marathon in the fastest time of my team. I can't say Ii'd recommend it, but if you're trying to shavea few minutes off here and there, it might be worth a try.

I've got half abottle of fabric glue i won't be using again if anyone wants to have a go.xxxx

I'd also like to give an honourable mention to Zinnia Cyclamen for this hilarious gymbased tale so she's getting a copy of my book too....

I'm not much of a runner but I am a regular gym-goer. Not many strange things happen in the gym; mostly people come in, do their stuff, maybe exchange a few words, and go away again. People are lost in their own little worlds of effort and relaxation, pain and endorphins, working to the inevitable pop/rock soundtrack with the occasional grunt or groan.

One day I was on a cross-trainer, working away, vaguely aware of the hum of the bikes behind me and the thump of feet on the treadmills in front, not thinking about anything much. And I heard a conversation begin between two men on exercise bikes. I love eavesdropping, so I tried to tune them in and everything else out.

And this is along the lines of what I heard (can't remember word for word of course), said in deadpan voices:

'Look, there's fog up ahead.'
'Better slow down, then.''Going far?'
'Just along the towpath for a while, then back through town.'
'The boats are nice to look at, aren't they?'
'Ah. Wouldn't want to live on one, though.'
'No, too small. That your dog?''Yes, he likes a run out.'
'Nice. Good breed.'
'Intelligent. You going far yourself?'
'Just into town for a few bits and pieces.

Well done, girls, and thanks to everyone who entered ... Mad Twin, I'm sure I should have made up a rule about family not counting or something...

Thanks also to everyone who came to the party, and hope to host another one here some other time. Maybe when Pastures New comes out...

In the meantime normal service will resume on this blog, and I'll be back to telling you all about my triathlon experiences.

I may NEARLY be ready to have a go at one. Toying with a women's only at Dorney Lake in Eton, but
a) I've never swum in a lake and have Issues
b) I don't own a wetsuit
c)It's the same weekend as I'm doing Race for Life with the sprogs.

Which segues me neatly into that.

I and a group of mums, and two of the children will be running Race for Life on behalf of Cancer Research on Epsom Downs on 1 July.

We have a fundraising page at:

http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/MumswhoRun

if anyone feels like donating, but please don't feel obliged!

Oh... and as everyone enjoyed my Wed Em Bed Em Shed Em game, I've been talking about Sex and Dr Who over on the other blog and Kate wanted a Dr Who version, I will be obliging there shortly...

So do come and play, why don't you!

2007-04-18T12:45:00.000+01:00

It's party time!!

Welcome to the online party to celebrate Sunday's Flora London Marathon. Even if you aren't taking part, come and say hello.

And if you are taking part in FLM on Sunday, clearly you aren't going to be doing much partying in the conventional sense.

But, pull up a chair, rest those weary legs and chew the fat over some pasta and a blueberry smoothie why don't you...

All are welcome in the smoothie bar and I hope you'll find much to enjoy.

You can read inspiring tales of other marathon runners, enter my competition, and if you like play my drinking game (eminently possible even when not drunk).

You are under no obligation to buy the book, but if you could let others know about it I'd be grateful. I usually donate £1 a copy to Tadworth Court Children's Trust, the wonderful charity I ran for in 2005.

To all the heroes and heroines running on Sunday, I wish you all the very best of luck. Do drop by and let us know how you got on...

2007-04-18T12:37:00.000+01:00

And here's a story to inspire...

Greg Kat – My Marathon Story

My running career started strong, petered out in my teens and then took off again when I was in my forties.

When I was fourteen, I was the Junior All-London 1500m champion, but gave up running soon after due to teenage angst and a lack of confidence.

Over three decades later, I started running again to keep fit and decided to enter the London marathon in 2000. I chose the marathon as it’s the ultimate challenge. I work in the leisure industry (at that time as a lifeguard and now as a swimming teacher) so managed to get a place through work.

I ran for Diabetes UK. http://www.diabetes.org.uk/ When I was twenty one, I was diagnosed with insulin-dependant diabetes and inject four times a day. A marathon is high endurance, when the body is constantly taxed over a long period of time. I knew that even if I got my sugar levels spot on at the beginning, they would be bound to fluctuate during the run. It was impossible to predict how my body would react, so I decided I was in it for the experience, not to achieve a particular time. If my sugar went low, I risked collapsing. If it went high, there was a risk of ketoacidosis – a potentially life-threatening condition.

I started at the back of the field, where it takes ages just to reach the start line, and refuelled during the run constantly with Lucozade and jelly beans. I completed the course comfortably in 4hrs 33mins 28secs and was happy with that. I saw it as the first part of a steep learning curve.

In 2001 I ran again – this time for a small charity called Equal Weight http://www.equalweight.org.uk/ – and knocked over an hour off my previous time, finishing in 3hrs 27mins 52secs.

The following year, when I ran for the Child Poverty Action Group, http://www.cpag.org.uk/ I improved my time again – this time to 3hrs 11mins 25secs, qualifying me for an automatic place the next year in the ‘Good for your Age’ category. Suddenly everything seemed possible. I set myself a target. I wanted to complete a marathon in under 3hrs.

But then in 2003, when I ran for a small school in north London, I had a disaster. On the 10th mile my sugar plummeted to a dangerously low level. I ended up in an ambulance and the woman wouldn’t allow me to continue until she was confident I was stable. She eventually let me go (reluctantly) but radioed ahead to the first aid station on the 16th mile and told me to stop there and have my blood sugar checked again.When I got to the 16th mile I felt fine and would have run past. But the wonderful marathon team were having none of it! The guy ran out into the road holding my number aloft and demanded I stop. When I said I didn’t want to, he ran alongside me and tested my blood!I met my family and friends on the 25th mile and stopped to tell them what had happened. I completed the course in 3hrs 33mins 51secs. People told me that in many ways this was my greatest achievement yet, considering the circumstances, but I was really disappointed. I was desperate to crack that 3hr mark and had failed in my own eyes.

In 2004 the experience was better. I ran for Kids Out http://www.kidsout.org.uk/and was back to my previous time – 3hrs 11mins 14secs.I decided to take a break and didn’t take part in 2005, though I continued to train as well as running half marathons and in other events. I was averaging 60-70 miles per week. Every week. Come rain, snow or sunshine…

Last year I was tantalisingly close to my target. I ran for ALD Life http://www.aldlife.org/and finished in 3hrs 1min 47secs.

This year I’m running for Refuge http://www.refuge.org.uk/, the domestic violence charity.Will 2007 be the year I break that magical 3hr mark?It will be my last opportunity to do it before I turn fift...

Good luck on Sunday Greg - fingers crossed you reach your goal (me I would be thrilled to do it in under five, but I was never a 1500m champion!)

2007-04-18T12:36:00.001+01:00

Competition time!

(Again)

To enter all you have to do is email me with the strangest thing you've seen/done when you're out running.

For the record, my surreal experiences have included: getting locked outside Waterloo Station in just my running kit, tripping over outside my local hospital in front of a nurse and getting lost with a dog up a mountain in Spain...

The winner will recieve a signed copy of my book: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum, as well as a free FLM fleece.To enter just email me at: jules@marathonmum.com

Can't say fairer then that, can I?

2007-04-18T12:25:00.000+01:00

What motivates you to run?

For me, the best thing about running is getting so "me" time, and I find it a great way for clearing my head. Particularly on sunny mornings when I drop the kids at school and run up to the downs near where I love. Running round one of the world's most famous horse race tracks on a clear and bright day, looking over London has to take some beating in my book...

I asked a couple of runners why they run.

And here's what they said...

Jason Ritchie

What motivates you to run?

Fitness, fundraising, 'me' time & my eight year old daughter

Why did you run in the marathon?

I have run London twice (1998 & 1999) plus the Potteries marathon (1999). Two were for charity, the other as it is my hometown. I ran them mainly to prove to myself I could after finding 10ks becoming too easy! Plus I find it a great way to raise money for various charities.

What was your best time?

Best I did was 4hrs 33mins in my first London marathon. I would still love to do both marathons one more time plus the Snowdown marathon. But for now a 10k is a big challenge after nearly six years of not running!

How have you managed to motivate yourself to do the training? (particularly in winter)

My lovely daughter who would have me running three times a day if she had her way and having a race to train for. I find it hard to go out running unless I have something to train for.

What music do you run to (if you do)?

Lots... Bit of metal for the hard graft like Judas Priest, Devin Townsend, Threshold and anything really with a bit of an uptempo beat like Night Ranger, Journey, the Levellers, Jackie Leven, the Proclaimers, James, Magnum, the Feeling, Mika etc. But no dance, r'n'b or jazz.

And here's what Donna Aoiller said...

What motivates you to run?

Well I was motivated to run because I suffered an eating disorder from the ages of 15-20 and I started to go to the gym to help my body back to health when I came out of hospital on my way to recovery, and running became part of my training, and I loved it so I started on the roads, and gave up the gym completely for running.

Why are you running in the marathon?

I am running the marathon to raise money for the hospital that treated me for my Turners Syndrome, during my difficult period of diagnosis. I want to give them something back. The hospital is Manchester Childrens Hospital and they are hoping to raise money to build a new hospital to bring the two sites together.

What sort of time are you hoping for?

I am not really thinking of times, I just want to get round the course in one piece.

How did you motivate yourself?

I motivated myself by thinking of my achievement in London, and by running two 10ks and two half marathons in the run up to London.

What sort of music do you run to?

I run to up beat pop type music such as Girls Aloud, but also like 80s stuff like donna summer and kylie. Also abba features on there as well.

Would you do it again?

ask me after 26.2 miles!

Thanks to Jason and Donna for sharing their experiences - and best of luck, Donna on Sunday!

2007-04-18T12:02:00.000+01:00

A Drinking Game... Metaphorically Speaking

This is a game I owe to my antipodean bloggy friend, Bec, she of the sadly now defunct Ladies Lounge.

I've slightly amended the rules for the UK.

But the game is called Wed em, Bed em, or Shed em.

Below are three bits of eye candy for the girls and three lovely ladies for the boys and you have to say which one you'd wed, bed, or shed...

The best answer may even get a signed copy of my book...

You can play dirty and go for the opposite sex if you like. We're open minded here...

As I am slightly obsessed with Green Wing at present, I thought we would go with that as a theme...

So your choices are listed below....

You don't have to be drunk to play this game, but it helps....

Cute little Martin Dear

The Tawny Maned
Dr Mac Macartney

Love God Extraordinaire
Dr Guy Secretan

Nymphomaniac, It's all gone dwarf
Joanna Clore

Lovely Dr Caroline Todd

Mad as a Snake, Sue White

2007-04-16T10:13:00.000+01:00

Buying the Book.

Obviously, there is a huge self promotional aspect to this party, in that I have lured you all here, in the hope that some of you will buy copies of my book: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum.

In order to purchase a copy all you need to do is email me at: jules@marathonmum.com and I'll email you an order form. Otherwise you can find i t on Amazon by clicking on this link:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Running-Empty-Diary-Marathon-Mum/dp/0955310709/ref=sr_1_1/202-5768756-3634206?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176714977&sr=8-1

2007-01-15T09:53:00.000Z

BACK TO NORMAL AT LAST...

As ever, my plans to exercise over the Christmas period were more ambitious then reality merited. One day I will be realistic about what I can achieve.

I did manage one run up in Shropshire visiting my mother. To anyone who has read my book, you may remember I did a run up the Long Mynd on New Year's Day. The Long Mynd is an incredibly steep series of hills that stretches for about eleven miles down the A49. It is bloody hard work walking up it let alone running up it.

Consequently, before I went on my run I consulted with my brother, who is a veteran of these hills and therefore might know a good route. Which indeed he did.

Go up to valley to the carpark he told me, and then you can take a path that goes round the side of the hill, and leads you back down a valley which comes into the woods along a path we often take, so I knew where he meant.

My bro is good at many things, but directions really aren't his hot point. (I once drove three sides of a square through Morden and Tooting trying to find where he lived in Wimbledon - but you can go down that road on a bike, he kept saying, pointing out one way streets, which er, I couldn't drive down).

I got to the carpark, so far so good. We've walked up there many times, and it is a slow gradual slope on the road (another hazard of the Mynd is the slippery muddy paths which mean you are in constant danger of tripping up and breaking your neck), so not too tricky to negotiate. It was a sunny day, and amazingly for late December not windy, so all in all it was very pleasant and I was enjoying my little jog.

Amazingly I spotted the path my bro was talking about straight away, and it wasn't too slippery or steep, so I was still running at a reasonable (for me) pace.

Then I got to a reservoir which meant I was definitely in the right direction, as it was a landmark my brother had mentioned. The path then became very steep, I had to negotiate my way up slippery steps, and then run along decking presumably put in place to stop walkers from slipping. The trouble was they had walked across it with their muddy boots, so it was slippery as hell, and there was a nice steep drop into a brook to my right.

The further I went the narrower the path became, until eventually it disappeared altogether. Oh sod. The trouble with all the valleys on the Long Mynd is that they all look the same, and I hadn't a clue if I should keep going round the side of the hill, or head for the top, where at least I knew I stood a good chance of hitting the main road back into town. Recognizing the waterfall (another landmark) to my right, and knowing that I had once climbed it to get to the road, I took that option. So of course, by now I am not running at all. I can't even dignify my pathetic scramblings up the hillside as climbing either. It was a question of hanging onto dear life to gorse bushes, and hoping I wasn't going to go arse over tit down the waterfall. It did occur to me that this wasn't the most sensible thing I've ever done. I had foolishly left my mobile behind, and no one knew exactly where I was. People do die in them thar hills...

Fortunately, though I wasn't one of them. And eventually I did stagger to the top where I was met by a group of disinterested sheep who manage to cling to the hillside by travelling on the narrowest paths imaginable. I staggered over some nice boggy ground (another hazard up there is getting stuck in a bog), before seeing the road ahead of me. I then ran for all of ooh, five minutes before the road headed downhill again. It's incredibly steep and my worries about breaking my neck outweighed my desire to make up the time I had lost scrambling up the hillside.

I made it home in about an hour.

I think I had run two miles....

So it is with great relief that the children are back at school, and I got back in the pool last week. It was absolutely knackering and lovely coach didn't make any allowances for people still recovering from Christmas, but I did manage to do the fifty lengths he imposed, and did another thirty on Wednesday. I only got one run in - just under two miles in twenty minutes - but am hoping to do more this week.

Despite the crap weather here - it is good to be back...

2006-12-23T12:57:00.001Z

What was I just saying?

I was so pleased with myself last time I posted. I had had a really great swim and was getting back into running, when blow me down I got struck by the mother of all colds. So no swimming or running for me for about a fortnight, during which I proceeded to feel thoroughly lousy and lose my voice. My first foray back into running went ok, but brought the cold straight back so I've done nothing till yesterday. And I mean NOTHING... GRR!! On top of that when I finally went to the GP, she told me she thought I was asthmatic. As I have two wheezy children this wasn't an unreasonable assumption, but I had a chat with my actual GP about it and he reckons I'm just prone to having asthma type symptoms when I have a heavy cold. So I'm now dosing myself up with the kid's inhalers and it seems to be working.

The good news is that the lack of running has helped my back, so when I did get out for a run yesterday I did manage just under three miles in thirty minutes, so I was averaging 10.16 minute miles, which is pretty good for me. I am hoping that as Spouse is now off for Christmas I might be able to get a swim in some time. The other good news is the doc reckons running/swimming will help rather then hinder, so at least I don't have to give anything up.

I didn't get into the marathon via the ballot, which is probably just as well, and though I toyed with doing it for charity, in the end I decided I didn't want the pressure of raising the money. I have set my sights instead on completing a triathlon some time this year, and going for FLM again, next...

In the meantime, if there's anyone out there reading this a very happy Christmas to you and yours. And if you have bought my book, thanks a lot. And if you haven't, you might enjoy this...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVV7aXpg8B0

2006-11-22T16:42:00.000Z

IN THE SWIM

I didn't post about my doings last week because, I didn't get up to much. I did swim last Monday, and though Lovely Instructor made me do it again and again, and again... I did sort of feel as though I am improving. Which is amazing.

I then had a great run home from school across the downs last Tuesday. The sun was shining and the leaves were just about clinging to the trees, so it was a riot of colour up there. I pushed myself harder up the hill then I do normally, and tried to run as fast as possible and to my amazement I did get back in 33 mins. So at just over 11 mins a mile it's a personal best for me. Ok for a proper runner that's a disaster, but I was pleased. And it was a fabulous day for running, so even if my time had been worse, I wouldn't have minded too much.

But that was my lot last week. I got a bit busy and was out for a couple of days, and then spent the rest of the week catching up on the housework.

So running wise I am definitely not with the programme. And I really need to get some longer runs under my belt before Christmas if I am going to seriously enter the marathon... I still haven't decided yet. There is an outside chance I'll get in through the ballot, but I am not sure whether I'll go for a charity place if I don't get in.

On the upside I'm sure I'm fitter then I was two years ago.

On the downside I haven't done enough training, and my sciatica is still a problem.

But oooooh, I so want to do it again.

And I've found someone else who wants to too. So who knows?

In the meantime, it was back to the pool on Monday.

As winter draws in it gets harder and harder to leave the house at 8.50pm It would be sooo much better if swimming was at 8pm, except I'd probably end up missing it then as I'm still faffing about with the kids. In summer it was easy - particularly on hot nights. But the last two weeks I've been battling the little demon on my right shoulder saying, don't go, stay, watch tv, drink that wine...

So far I've resisted, but I'm not sure for how much longer....

But it was really worth going on Monday. I feel so much more confident in the water now. So I get in and straight into my drills:

2 x swimming on my side
2 x rolling from side to side
2 x superman
2 x shark fin
2 x double shark fin.

Makes for the first set of ten lengths. 250m just to get us going.

Then it's usually 6 lengths breathing on one side, usually, left, right, left,left, left right. When I started I used to have to stop after every length, but I can do all six now. Woo!

This is followed by two lengths swimming to get your brain in gear.

And after that I lose it a bit, as I forget how many lengths I've done.

But I think it was four lengths fists, followed by four lengths catch up.

That takes us to 28.

After that it's a length breathing every third stroke, then one breathing every five, then five again, then third.

That's tough. IF you slow down and try to relax it sort of works. But I find myself running out of puff about halfway down. And this week miraculously I appeared to be the fastest in the group, so I kept bumping into people and losing my rhythm. I am so unused to being in the position of Speedy Gonzales I haven't yet got to grips with overtaking... I suppose it will come.

Then we did another four lengths breathing on our least favourite side - I don't actually have a least favourite side, but went for the right side as I use it less as Lovely Instructor makes us practise swimming on our left more as that is the side people usually feel less comfortable with. As I am new to this malarkey, I have started off swimming more on the left, hence my right side is a bit weaker.

Last off we had to practise swimming a length in eighteen strokes. This is a good racing rhythm apparently - and the way to do it I have recently discovered is by breathing every three strokes, but six times up the pool. I am hovering at the moment at anything between sixteen and 20 strokes - usually the latter. And I come up gasping for air. Part of the problem is my stroke isn't long enough - according to Lovely Instructor all I need is to make my stroke longer and it will be a piece of piss. Hmm... not sure I quite believe him, but the tip he gave me about breathing through my nose has really helped. So long as I don't panic and breathe in lots of water.

By the time we'd done four lengths of that it was ten pm and time for two more wind down lengths before getting out. So I'd swum 44 lengths in total - 1100 metres. Which is nearly olympic distance. Now if I could manage to do that at speed....

I ran yesterday morning, which was great, but boy my legs were tired. So though I tried out the route I had gone on with my speedy friend, I was a trifle slower then last time. Just over three miles in 39 mins, so about 11.25 minute miles as opposed to 9.5 with her. It's wierd how I can't keep up the pace on my own. I just don't seem to be able to push myself hard enough. At least, not when I run.

Today in the pool was better. I swam ten lengths breathing every third stroke - only managing two at a time, but I have to start somewhere...

Then I swam breathing every stroke, and managed twenty two lengths in fifteen minutes. This is not properly fast, but it is good for me, so I was pleased with it - considering six months ago I could just about manage one length crawl.

I then alternated breathing every three/every five and by the end I had just about managed a length or two when I wasn't completely out of breath. Woo!

So in total I swam 40 lengths in just over 40 mins. There was some stopping , so maybe if I didn't stop I could shave off five mins, which would mean swimming 1000 metres in about 35mins.

Not too bad for a novice....

2006-10-31T11:05:00.000Z

These Days are Made for Running...

It's a fine autumnal day here. Windy, and cold, but bright and sunny too. Perfect running weather, and much more seasonal then the odd global warming induced days then we have been having. Mind you, if global warming is happening, I can't say I mind too much, though it does mean the grass needs cutting. And isn't it just mealy-mouthed of our politicians to talk about taxing us because the sun is shining more? But that's Gordy for you. Never miss an opportunity to screw the people....

Anyway, I digress.

Last week being half term I didn't get much training in. I was going to go running with Mad Twin when we met last week, but alas three bottles of wine and a late night later, we both decided to give it a miss. I wish I could live a parallel life where I could indulge in all the wine drinking I want and then step across the void (ok, ok I have been watching Dr Who on DVD) into my parallel clean living life, where I wake up next morning without the hangover...

I did manage to get out to a running session with one of our local running groups. I can't normally go as it starts at 7pm and that's when the oldest goes to Guides. I have, inconveniently, had far too many children to allow me to train properly. Funnily enough, training for triathlons/marathons wasn't on my mind when I was having them...

After my debacle on Epsom Common in the summer, I have to confess to being rather nervous about this session, as I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. My Speedy Gonzales running partner, assured me I would be fine, and it turned out she was right.

We jogged about half a mile to a flat bit of road where there was a nice (flat) circular 1000m route, which we had to run four times.

First off, I miraculously found myself on the coat tails of the fast runners (a very unusual place for me to be) and managed to do it in 5:27, which was quite astonishing.

Even more astonishing this meant when we were split into two groups I was with the fast one. Ha. Me, fast? I don't think so...

We then had to do 2000 m on the trot, which really sorts the wheat from the chaff. First off I managed 5:46 - so I had gone out waaaay too fast first time around and by the time I was coming back for round two my legs were turning to lead. I was at the back of the fast group by a really long way, but I was overtaking some of the slow ones, which was a novel position for me.

My third lap was a fairly disastrous (but probably more realistic for me) 6:11.

So last time out, I politely declined the opportunity to go with the fast ones, and set off where I belong, with the slow runners.

Here I had another novel experience, I was one of the fastest of the slow lot. I nearly caught up with the leader at one point, but couldn't sustain the pace, so fell back. But I did come second, and was only caught by one of the fast ones. Wooo!!

My pace this time was 5:55. Double Woo!! In theory I could do a 10k in 55 mins on that speed. In practice I doubt very much I could keep it up.

However, it was a nice feeling not to be at the back of the pack for a change. And I came away thinking, perhaps I'm getting better at this.

Swimming is definitely getting better. I seemed to find myself leading there last night too. Though in fairness, most of the other people haven't been coming as long as me, and one was clearly much fitter then I am, but hadn't been for ages.

Still, I think I did about 40+ lengths, I can now swim lengths breathing every third stroke relatively easily (breathing every fifth is a bit more tricky and last night thanks to a slight cold I struggled a bit), but when I compare it to how I was when I started, it seems frankly miraculous. I do get knackered, but it is rare now for me to pause between lengths. Friendly Instructor even uttered the immortal words, when you are competing. What do you mean, when?? Although I still can't imagine I will ever be good enough, the dream doesn't seem quite so crazy anymore.

Memo to self - must get the bike mended...

This morning I had a glorious run across the downs. The sun was that steely bright that sums up this time of year, and the wind at my back certainly made me feel I was upping the pace. I did just over 3miles in 34 mins, which is slower then the other week with Speedy, but I did run up to the downs, my legs were fairly tired from swimming and I really wasn't pushing myself.

Memo to self - next time push harder....

Even if I don't get to do the marathon next year, I'm rediscovering why I fell in love with running in the first place.

And maybe that tri isn't quite so elusive anymore...

2006-10-19T14:37:00.000+01:00

NOW I'VE GONE AND DONE IT...

Hmm. After much procrastinating I have finally put in for next year's FLM. Well of course I stand a cat in hell's chance of getting in via the ballot, but am upping my training and seriously considering a charity place. Haven't told the old man yet, oh dear.

Can't believe I can really be contemplating this. I ran six miles last week and thought ... ouch. That hurt more then I remembered. And my speed. Oh god, my speed is still pathetically slow.

So accordingly this week I set out to run circuits round the park across the road in order to work on my speed. My problem is that I just can't seem to do it - either mentally or physically. I think about speeding up and something just goes, Nope, I Don't Do Speed.

I wasn't helped first off by having a rather bad tempered encounter with a dog owner. Her pesky little pet came up to have a snuffle. I may have mentioned elsewhere to rather tedious length that dogs and me just don't get along. I find it particularly unnerving when they come up to me when I'm running, so always slow down. The owner paid no attention to her dog coming up to me and looked askance when I said I didn't like dogs. Well you've come to the wrong place then was her sarcy response. My rather more badtempered one (I am duly ashamed of it now, but forgive me, I was feeling hormonal) was to say Great, you're saying I shouldn't come to the park then? I was rather aggressive, but really, she got right up my nose.

My first minute of speed work was accordingly rather faster then I intended as the mood thing fired me right up. Consequently I ran out of steam before the minute was up and was puffing like an old steam train when it came to my walk. My two minutes was therefore a lot slower, and by the time I got to three minutes I was giving up totally on the idea of even attempting to run as fast as I could. I just ran the speed I can run, which was probably slower then normal. I was feeling totally pathetic about the whole thing frankly, so I decided for my four minute spurt I woudl try and do the second half faster then the first. When you go at snail's pace to start with, this is just about possible... However, never has four minutes seemed so long. How is it goes so fast on the walking bits?

I gave up at that point, as I really had had enough and I ran out of time, which was an even better excuse.

I was knackered, red in the face, and I had run probably slower then I do normally. I'm never going to get on with this speed thing.

However....

Woohoo!

A miracle happened.

Actually two have happened.

The swimming is coming together and I managed thirty lengths crawl in the pool last week. Yes I did say thirty. And I couldn't do two six months ago. Yay. And on Monday night I wasn't at the back of the pack for once. Double Yay. And I enjoyed it...

The second miracle was I went running on Tuesday morning with a friend who is a really fast runner.

We started off talking and running at a speed I didn't think I was capable of and still retain the ability to remain upright. The talking was a mistake. After less then a mile I was just about ready to drop and begged for a break, which she kindly gave me. Meanwhile, she wasn't even out of breath. The route we run bisects my road, and I was sooo tempted to cut off home, but decided that wasn't fair on my friend, who had generously slowed her pace a tad. By dint of not speaking much, I could just about keep up. I also practised breathing through my nose, a neat trick Friendly Instructor had taught me the previous night, which gets more oxygen into your lungs. It seems to work for running as well as swimming, so though we were running faster then I normally do I didn't quite feel as though I was going to keel over at any minute.

We got back and split up at the top of my road. Checking the time I realised we had been about thirty minutes. Wowee. I knew the run was about three miles. For once I had managed ten minute miles. Armed with such knowledge I raced back home, clocking 32 mins as my time as I came through the door.

I've just got an account with the Good Run Guide, which allows you to plot your routes and log times. To my amazement the run we did was 3.44 miles, which gave me a time of 9.5 minute miles.

Me run a nine and a half minute mile.

I don't believe it.

But it appears miraculously to be true...

2006-10-03T10:56:00.000+01:00

Back in the Pool

Though I have been swimming every week since the sprogs have been at school, for one reason or another I keep not getting to the training sessions on a Monday night.

But last night I managed to brush aside the tempting demons who were whispering loudly in my ear, Stay, Stay, Spooks is on.... and forced myself to go swimming.

Actually I had been to the pool earlier in the day, but then I was poolside watching the sprogs in their lessons. This is not good for me. I know nos 1&2 are perfectly capable of getting themselves out of trouble in the water, but watching them bobbing up and down in the deep end still fills me with horror. Every fibre of my being is screaming that I should be in there with them, just in case, and yet reality is I would probably end up drowning saving them or something....

Anyway I digress. I actually managed to get some food down me in time to digest properly before my swim, and all the kids were in bed when I left. I actually had so much time for once, I was nearly late.

It has been over two months since I have been at a session, but I have been practising my drills. And to my amazement it seems to have paid off. There were only five of us last night - one who is soooo far ahead of the rest of us there is no point even trying to keep up. But the others are on a par with me. In fact, usually I'm struggling behind them.

But not last night. No sirree. For the first time since I embarked on this nutty triathlon thing, I actually found myself leading off, because when I didn't I caught up with people. Blimey.

Not only that but I managed six lengths fairly quickly without as long breaks as I normally take, and I wasn't totally knackered at the end.

Wooo! result.

I am still incapable of getting the stroke right - viz, I got (rightly) reprimanded for cheating when I did one drill called three point touch. The idea is you stretch your arm to your thigh, raise it to your shoulder and then stretch it out as far as possible, so you get the longest and most effective stroke. I can sort of do this now, but being totally uncoordinated it takes some thinking about. And if I think about it too much, I start sinking. So my way round this is to do the stroke on one side float for a little before coming up on the other side, instead of rolling from side to side as I do it. I also find it impossible still to do this snaking thing with my hand as it enters the water, or have my arm bent enough to push down properly through the water. But I am getting there, and what's more I am actually enjoying it...

Double Wooo!

It was only about twenty minutes before the end that I started counting down the time till the end of the lesson, which is pretty much a first for me.

It's always hard work remembering quite how many lengths you've done.

But last night I think it went like this:

Swimming on side dipping head in and out of water x 2 lengths
Superman x 2 " "
Shark x 2 " "
Double Shark x 2 " "
Swimming with one arm x 2 " "
Swimming left arm only x 2 " "
Left arm up/Right arm down x 2 " "
Using float and kicking x 4 " "
Fists only x 4 " "
catch up x 4 " "
three point touch x 4 " "
Three breaths up/Five breaths down x 4 " "
Bending arm through the water x 4
Doing a length in eighteen strokes x 2 " "
Five strokes front/five strokes back x 2 " "

So I think I did about forty lengths.... Which is the most I've ever done and amounts to swimming about 1000 metres. Well, ok, I didn't do it all at once ( I could do that easy peasy breast stroke) but it's a huge leap for me with the crawl. So

Triple Wooo!!!

I'm actually looking forward to next week....

The downside is I went for a run with another mum this morning and my legs felt like lead. But it was pleasant (if slow) and you can't have everything....

2006-09-25T14:49:00.001+01:00

ASHTEAD 10K

Being as I am still a relative newbie to running I haven't actually done that many races. So far I have run in one 10k (about a million years ago in that glorious prehistory before my sprogs were born), one 5mile Up The Long Mynd Hideous Nightmare, and the marathon. And, er, that's it...

In an attempt to see if I can run at all faster then I think I can, and hearing from a friend about the Ashtead 10k, I thought I'd have a go at that. Ashtead Common is near enough home I could just hop in the car just after 9.30, run round the common and be back in time for lunch. As is my wont I hadn't exactly communicated these plans very well to my husband, so he had arranged to go on a picnic with some friends, which thanks to me had to be put back an hour.

This was the first Ashtead 10k, organised brilliantly by the Ashtead Runners Group. It was lively fun, and people were incredibly friendly. I hate going to things on my own, but I found plenty of people to chat to before the race.

Being me, I had rather foolishly drunk too much red wine the night before the race. I know, I know, I only have myself to blame, but in my defence it was my sister in law's birthday and it would have been churlish to spend the WHOLE evening on water....

So it was, that I found myself parking up at Ashtead Station on Sunday morning, feeling rather the worse for wear and wondering just why I had said I would do this. I would probably have wimped out had it not been that the very nice and helpful organizer had kindly said he would give away three of my books as raffle prizes (he also very kindly turned up to my launch party, so it seemed a bit churlish having promised the books not to turn up!)

Although I know Ashtead, I don't know the bit around the station very well, so along with several other runners we managed to wander around aimlessly for about ten minutes before eventually finding the scout hut where we were to register.

In my anxiety not to be late, I was of course, far too early. It had started off cool and threatening rain, but my 10.30 the sun was blazing down so I wandered back to the car (discovering that it was actually two minutes from the scout hut) to dump my fleece, before heading for the start of the race. Nerves getting the better of me, I had to do at least two loo stops before I got there...

The race started promptly at eleven and I stayed resolutely at the back of the pack (I know my place!!!) and started off fairly slowly. Pretty much everyone overtook me at the start, but hey, I'm used to that.

We did one circuit round a field before heading off into the common. The sun was incredibly hot and I was relieved when we finally hit a bit of shade as my head was pounding rather. Although the marshall stations were plentiful (and the marshalls themselves wonderfully enthusiastic and encouraging) there were no mile markers, so I didn't have a clue how far I was. I was managing to keep a small group ahead of me in my sights though, which was helpful as, after my miserable experience on the Long Mynd (when I pretty much lost sight of everyone else in the race) I know how tough it is to keep motivated when it's just you and the track...

Thanks to rain the night before, the path was fairly muddy in places, and the course was fairly up and down. As I live halfway up a hill I rarely race on the flat, but I have to admit there were moments when the hills defeated me and I did have the odd walk just to get to the top.

It is amazing how much you get slowed down by those moments when you walk though - after one such moment the group that were ahead of me seemed to vanish completely, and for a long time I could only see one other woman ahead of me. Eventually to my utter amazement I found I not only caught her up, but I overtook her. I was sort of getting into my stride now. After the early bit of the race when I was puffing and panting away and wondering what the hell I was doing here, I had settled into a rhythm and was even upping the pace a bit. I was much helped by the sight of the front runner heading back. Yay! That must mean the halfway point wasn't too far away.

Actually of course, being as he was so fast and I was so slow, the halfway point was probably nearly a mile away, but seeing him and the rest of the pack running back did spur me on. The track at this point became very narrow and I found myself breathing in to let other runners past, or pulling in so they could get by. But the more I saw, the nearer to the midway point I was getting, so I didn't mind too much.

As the midway point hove into view a bunch of runners came back towards me and I saw the friend who had suggested the race to me. Huzzah. I wasn't too far behind her and she is a much faster runner then me.

I grabbed a drink and a jelly baby, checked the time (37 mins - not too bad for me. Mind you that was the time the winner did the whole thing in...) and set off again.

Somehow I lost my rhythm for the next bit, and I seemed to slow right down again. Particularly at the hills which I found myself walking up. I lost sight of everyone barring one lone runner ahead of me, who was walking more then me, but who for some reason I couldn't seem to catch up. Eventually, coming to a downward slope, I overtook him at the bottom when he was having a walking break. We exchanged grimfaced cheering each other up comments and I was on my way again. I had passed several people still on their way out, which cheered me no end. At least I wasn't going to be last.

After about twenty minutes I felt I must be nearly two miles from the end, so asked a marshall. He reckoned I still had 3-4k to go. That didn't seem so bad, I thought, though by now my muscles were screaming, my water bottle was nearly empty and my headache was loud enough to wake the dead.

I caught up with a couple of other runners and we geed ourselves on together. The next time I asked a marshall the distance he said 3k and the next time he said 2. But by this time I was getting a bit muddled and I thought he meant 2 miles, which really threw me and made me slow down again (memo to self, do not let little things throw you off...) However, once I realised it was only 2k I got a second wind and started running stronger and faster then I had done in the whole race.

The next marshall we saw told us we would hear the finish line soon and I was off and away . One of the women I was running with was going at a fair pace and I was a bit behind her, having overtaken her companion. Yay! This was more like it. This is why (despite hangovers and headaches and aching muscles) I run... I'm never going to be at the front, but hey, the buzz of taking part, and knowing you're on the home straight. It's fantastic....

What is slightly less fantastic is suddenly realising that the field you are crossing isn't the field you thought it was and the finish line is remaining as elusive as ever. I had another wobble and slowed right down again. Clearly my psychology on these occasions needs some work...

I did eventually stagger through to the field where we had started, but boy did the finish line look a long way away. The woman I had previously overtaken passed me again, but I could see a bunch of runners not too far ahead, including my friend. That spurred me on, so whilst I didn't do a sprint finish, I was still running as I thankfully crossed the line.

My time was 72:33 - pretty slow by proper runner's standards, but it will do for me. I was elated, exhausted, hungry and thirsty. But I felt great. My legs might not ever be the same again, but I have a feeling I'll be back again next year.... If only to see how much better I can do without a hangover...

With grateful thanks to Rob McCaffrey for organizing such a brilliant race and for all those wonderful marshals who were so enthusiastic!

Rob edits an online running magazine called Trionium. If you're interested, visit: http://www.trionium.com

2006-09-15T12:15:00.000+01:00

AT LAST - TIME TO TRAIN...

Since I last posted time to train has been hard to come by, mainly because it was the summer holidays and the kids took up all my time.

We went on an epic camping trip to Europe (about which I have blogged ad nauseam on http://maniacmum.blogspot.com ), during which I had had fond notions of getting up early and going for runs, and, as part of the holiday was spent by Lake Constance, I even fantasised about swimming in the lake. Sadly the weather was so lousy (and by lousy, I mean lousy) I didn't get to see the lake most days, let alone swim in it. I managed one paltry run round the campsite and that was it. I did get a few quick swims in various pools in France (and though I practised my drills as said pools were so short there wasn't a great deal of opportunity to improve my style).

Once back home, of course I didn't have Spouse, so I got out running a couple of evenings and that was pretty much that.

But that is all about to change ... and how.

Because, finally, after eight years of being at home with the sprogs, my youngest is now in full time education and my time is my own once more...

So last week I got in two runs and a swim (and surprisingly the swimming felt ok).

And this week I have managed:

to play tennis on Sunday (badly it has to be said as I was incredibly hungover).

an interval run home from school. I actually managed a mile in about 10-11 mins, which believe me, is fast for me.

a swim on Wednesday, in which I finally began to feel the swimming is coming together. I am still very very bad, but at least now I can manage two lengths on the trot, even if I am puffing and panting like a beached whale when I get to the end.

a swim on Thursday - this was even better. I decided I was just going to see how much I could actually swim, rather then concentrating on the drills. I managed four lengths together which I was pretty chuffed about and swam 20 in total. Half of what I could have done breaststroke, but much much better then I could do before. Maybe I am a triathlete in the making... (or maybe not, I took the kids to the park on our bikes the other day and mine has sprung a puncture. It being YEARS since I changed a tyre, my bike being somewhat more complex then the one I used to have, plus being fitted with a kid's seat which I'll have to take off, I have a ghastly feeling it may stay in the garage for some time...)

I also went to the gym on Thurs night, to keep Spouse company as he hasn't been for months, and did a speedwork session on the treadmill, which knackered me out, but was pretty good.

So this morning I decided I would strike out for a longish run - time having been against me for so long now, my long runs have faded into memory rather. As I have also rather foolishly signed up for a 10k next Sunday (memo to self, I really must let Spouse know!) I decided I needed to prove to myself that I could still go that distance.

My plan was to drop the kids at school and just go for it. However, things being what they are in my house that didn't quite happen. To begin with it was raining, so when no 3 pathetically asked to go in the car, and no 4 pathetically said she was tired (which having just done her first full school day followed by tennis yesterday, she is), I gave in and drove. I HATE driving to school as the roads are so busy, we have a fairly newish MPV and I am terrified of bashing it, and the kids squabble so much I get distracted. However, needs must and all that...

I couldn't set off straight after drop off, because no 3 has been chosen to sing in the choir at assembly so of course I had to go and watch. Still, I did revel in the luxury of sitting in the assembly sans autre enfants as I have had to do in the past.

It was 9.35 by the time I got back home, and I had a wavering moment when I thought shall I skip it. But the thought of not completing that 10k was too much to bear, so I made myself.

I am such a slow runner I have said I will do the 10k in 1.15 to be on the safe side, but really I would rather do it faster. The only other 10k I've done was years ago, pre children and I managed to clock 1:03. But I was a lot younger then...

As I set off the sun came out, and within minutes I was sweating buckets, so took my top off by the traffic lights in the town centre. My route was not a very exciting one, and chosen purely because I know it is six miles door to door to the set of traffic lights I run to and back.

I was pleased to see as I ran past the clock tower that graces our high street, that I had got into town in ten minutes (mind you it is all down hill), as I had deliberately been running slower, as I usually make the fatal mistake of going too fast and running out of steam very quickly.

Coming out of town there are two undulating dips - the upsides are pretty steep, so I slowed down even more. My sciatic nerve which has been bothering me for months chose that moment to remind me of its presence, so while I wasn't in agony, I wasn't comfortable either, which was very annoying as the previous day on the running machine it had felt fine. I got up to the quarter way point (marked by the church clock on the common) in another ten minutes. Hmm - twenty mins to do 1.5 miles, that would mean 100 mins to do 6 - or 1:20. Surely even I couldn't clock such a crap time?

Heading off towards the next quarter I was back in familiar territory. This was the beginning part of my long runs when I was in marathon training proper. The run is on the road and takes me past the common, rather then round it. Call me a wuss, but I don't like the idea of running alone on the common, which is very wooded, so I always go via the roads. What I need is to find someone to run the common with me...

The next bit of the journey incorporated two more dips and as I plodded along I remembered somewhat belatedly that this is one of those roads that seems sooooo much further then it really is.

Eventually, the traffic lights I was aiming for hove into view. Thank god for that. Blimey I'd run three miles, felt absolutely knackered and my sciatic nerve was stepping the pain up a level. I checked my time - 37mins to run three miles. Over 12min miles. Pretty crap then. I had a drink and set off home again, reflecting that I was going to be sorely disappointed by how long the return journey took me.

Luckily on the way back, some weird reverse psychology came into play and it actually seemed quicker then on the way out - even though one of the uphills was so steep I was merely plodding.

I got to the church in twenty minutes. If it took me twenty more to get home, I was now heading for 1:17 - so I'd managed to save three mins then...

Actually, as it happened I got back in 1:10. Not the fastest time in the world, but better then anticipated. And maybe I can do better on the day.

It wasn't one of the best runs I've ever done, but it did remind me why I get out there and do it.

What I love about running is that you can just pull on your running shoes, head out the door, and off you go. It's just you and your body battling against the distance. And when the sun is shining and the wind is on your cheek, to me however badly I'm running it's the best feeling in the world.

What makes you get out there and go?

2006-07-27T09:15:00.000+01:00

RUN, RABBIT, RUN RABBIT, RUN, RUN, RUN

What was that I said yesterday about being able to run? Let me take it all back in an instant. I haven't had a worse experience running since I did an horrific 5mile run up the Long Mynd when I was marathon training.

I may have mentioned before that I am a very slow runner. I know I should try to speed up, but I find it incredibly difficult. Plus I never know when I'm going to get an opportunity to run, so usually run alone, which isn't great for speed work. Recently running has been taking a back seat as a) I have been swimming/playing tennis more and b) my sciatic nerve is causing me a lot of gip which has put me off. (I know, I know, I need to get back to the physio, but I just haven't had time).

Yesterday being the first day of the holidays sproglets were all totally wiped. They are also cranky because of the heat. I let them lounge around watching far too much tv in the morning and then got them helping me sort out the play room before lunch. The playroom isn't very big, and is really an ante room, next to our kitchen. It is also stuffed full of all their games/books/colouring stuff, none of which ever gets put away properly. I have been looking at in horror over recent weeks, and decided that the children needed a lesson in how to put their toys away properly. So, before lunch I got them sorting through all the puzzles and throwing away any that weren't complete.

Sadly, after lunch their enthusiasm waned, and after one quick hot sprint around the garden, they all wilted like little flowers and lay limply draped across various sofas. So like the little red hen, I was left to clear out the rest of the junk... It's so great being the one in charge.

As a result, by the evening, I was shattered, and fractious with the children. Spouse was meant to go the gym, so I had arranged for lovely mil to babysit while we were out. However, Spouse's partner blew him out and I therefore ended up leaving him in control (and slicing and pickling beetroot).

I arrived at the place where we were supposed to be meeting, early, and couldn't see a sign of anyone I knew. I drove round twice just to make sure, and on my second circuit encountered another runner. Eventually several more people turned up and the instructor sent us all off. We stopped after half a mile or so to pick up another runner, and by then we were being caught and overtaken by the fast runners.

En route I discovered the particular form of torture this run was going to take. We were doing something called interval training, where you run fast, then walk - all aimed at improving your speed.

The idea is to run for a minute as fast as you can without knackering yourself completely (what's your 5k pace? someone helpfully asked. Yikes! I have no idea - I've only ever run the marathon and one 10k!), and then walk for a minute. You then up it to two minutes, then three, till finally you're running for five minutes. You then slow right back down again. The instructor follows us on his bike, and whistles when it is time to start or stop.

The first minute wasn't too bad, though I was aware immediately how much slower I was then everyone else. The second minute was hell, though, and I was flagging fast. So the instructor told me that when the next whistle went, I should turn around and walk back. What? All the way back? I felt utterly humiliated. Was I that crap that I couldn't even carry on all the way round?

Actually, what he meant was that I should start walking and run again when the others caught me up, but I didn't know that at the time. Added to my discomfit was that a couple of dog walkers chose to arrive at that time. I am wary of our canine friends at the best of times, but all alone on the common feeling like the last in the sack race (again) I was not best pleased to see them.

Once the others caught up, I was off again, panting pathetically, and soon at the back of the pack again, even thought they had all run far longer then I had. I have never been so glad to hear the sound of a whistle.

The next two sessions were equally tough - I was miles behind everyone else, and felt utterly despairing at points, although they were all very encouraging. I had no idea it was going to be this tough. And while the only way is up, there is part of me thinking, shit the bed, I don't HAVE to do this... it's only me making me. But I am stubborn old bugger, and while I know I will probably never be a very fast runner, it would be nice to run a bit faster. And nicer still not to always be the last in the sack race...

By the time we got to the five minutes section, I was so far ahead of everyone I lost sight of them, and once I was overtaken, I lost sight of them again. It was a most surreal experience, like entering some parallel universe. There was me doing my slow thing, and whoosh! out of the blue all these other runners sped past me, and were gone, leaving me wondering if I had imagined their whole existence...

By the time we were on the home straight, I was thoroughly demoralised, utterly knackered, my back was killing me and I was running out of water.

OTOH, I had now run all the way round the common - somewhere I frequently get lost with the children - so at least I had a better idea of where all the paths go. And though I was slow, I was still running.... Hold onto that thought...

The last two minutes were the best, in that though I was behind, at least I didn't lose sight of everyone.

For the last minute we had to sprint, and let me tell you, never has a minute seemed so long...

We then walked/jogged slowly back to our cars.

I got home to find the kids had been bathed and were ready for bed, but no 4 wanted a story, which I read to her as I bathed my aching limbs in an ice cold bath.

The rate I'm going I doubt I'll ever be able to complete a triathlon. And on a longterm basis I can't commit to running round the common every other Wednesday as it causes too much mayhem at home.

OTOH, if I as suggested by my marathon mum friend I get myself a sports watch, and practise interval training in the local park, perhaps my pathetic times will improve.

And maybe pigs will fly....

I think I'd rather run a marathon.

2006-07-26T12:53:00.000+01:00

TEETERING TOWARDS A TRI...

Two years ago, when I was just starting out on this running malarkey, and was looking online for runs I could take part in, I came across a mention of the London Triathlon. The distances didn't seem too idiotic, and I like swimming (in fact that was my exercise of choice before running or children), and cycling. Perhaps I should have a go at that?

I've created a monster, was Mad Twin's not unnatural response when I told her, and I thought no more of it for a while. However, a few months ago I got chatting to another marathon mum (a proper one, not like me - she's done it four times!), who told me that she had joined a Tri Club. They do swimming on Monday evenings, she said, come along...

I blogged about my first pathetic attempts in the pool on maniacmum, so if you want a laugh at my expense, you are more then welcome to go there, otherwise you can laugh at me here too. Two for the price of one, howzat?

After several weeks where I managed miraculously not to drown, but came home so bunged up I couldn't breathe, and was so demoralised I was on the verge of giving up, I bought a nose clip and slowly things have been improving.

Viz, when I first started I could only do one length at a time on my side. I can now do two like everyone else. And sometimes I even catch up with people. I must be improving a bit, as my lovely, cheerful (and only partially sadistic - if he says, Do it again, one more time, I may not be answerable for my actions) instructor has got me doing the same drills as everyone else now.

So most weeks the routine goes something like this:

2 lengths on my side head, not using my arms, kicking with my legs, putting head from side to side in water.

2 lengths superman - same routine with one arm out.

2 lengths shark - one arm outstretched, as I put my face in the water, I lift the other arm out like a shark's fin

2 lengths shark, but I keep my face down and lift my arm up for a second time.

So far so good. I can mostly do that now.

But then he introduces the stroke and I go all to pieces. I can cope with getting my head in the water, I can manage to roll from side to side. Most of the time I am not swallowing the pool, but the minute I have to think about what I am doing with my hands I am all over the shop. It doesn't help that I am totally uncoordinated and have never been able to rub my tummy and pat my head at the same time. So the minute Lovely Instructor starts telling me to bring my arm, bend my elbow, make an s shape with my hand AT THE SAME TIME as I get my head in the water, it all goes pear shaped, and I haven't a clue what to do.

The week before last I was actually feeling quite smug, as I had managed to get some sessions in the pool outside my lesson and I felt my stamina was improving. I had also managed to work out how to swim a length with a maximum stroke count of 18, which made me feel quite cheerful. Not only that, I did a five mile run and a six mile bike ride that week. Now if I can only manage to put them together...

This week by contrast was an illustration in humility, and not getting above meself. It was baking hot and the kids were really scratchy coming in from school. I ran around like a maniac tidying up after them/shouting at them/cooking tea/doing a head lice trawl (we sadly have hundreds of the little buggers, most of whom seem to have taken permanent residence in my second daughter's head.) etc etc. I rushed out late and was last one in the pool, arriving in a state of high stress and exhaustion, which didn't make for the greatest of starts.

To begin with things were ok. I managed to keep up with the crowd and felt I was holding my own. Then my wretched nose clip kept falling off, my goggles (which really belong to the children, but I haven't had time to buy my own) kept getting filled with water, my hair was escaping from my swimming cap (which also belongs to the children), and I just couldn't get my head round the instructions I was being given. At one point I was pulled up (quite rightly) for not getting it right and when everyone else went on to the next thing, I was left behind doing an easier version of the stroke. It was totally stupid, but I felt like the last one in the sack race. Christ I'm 41, and I was at the back of the pack feeling like a lemon, and wishing I was anywhere else but here. I did manage to resist the urge to burst into tears and leave the pool, but only just...

Things did just about come good in the last few lengths, but the rate I'm going I can't ever imagine that I'll manage to compete in a tri. It will take me years to get even part way good enough....

Tonight I'm going out for a run with the club for the first time. That should be a laugh.... I expect I'll be at the back of the pack there too. But at least I know I can run....

2006-07-04T17:55:00.000+01:00

Update

As it's been nearly a month since I launched Running on Empty in a blaze of non-publicity I thought I'd give you an update of what's been happening since.

To date I've sold around 70 books which isn't fabulous by proper publishers' standards, but pretty good by mine, as there is only me to do all the publicity/marketing etc and I do only have soooo much time.

Some of my sales are definitely coming via the internet, so do let people know about the book. You can email me direct at: jules@marathonmum.com , to get an order form and you can pay me by cheque or by paypal. You can also order it via amazon or through your local bookshop. And shortly I hope it will be available with an online bookshop run by the Running4Women Website.

Brenda Earnshaw and Brian Porter did a great job of promoting the book at the Freckleton half marathon on 18 June and I know of two direct sales as a result. If there are any other of you Freckles out there, it's still not too late...!!!

I am hoping to be in my local paper this week - and did my first radio interview last Saturday on BBC Southern Counties Radio. I was interviewed by Sally James and William Marden and they were very kind to me. Which was just as well as it was 8am and I had a bit of a hangover... My only mistake was I told them that at the start and they mentioned it on air... They also very kindly gave away a copy of my book with free tickets to see Status Quo at Epsom Downs this Thursday. I suspect whoever rang in for the Quo might have been a bit nonplussed, but hey, maybe I'll convert someone! Anyway it was jolly good fun, although Dave did question why anyone wanted to be famous if it means getting up at 7am on a steaming hot Saturday morning. Particularly as I then had to get back to sort out our six year old's birthday party.

Which is how I came to be icing a mermaid cake at 9.10 an hour after I'd been on air. From the sublime to the ridiculous, methinks, but it kinda sums up my nutty life, so it seemed quite appropriate really...

On Sunday I ran the Race for Life with my eldest daughter- actually I use the word "ran" in it's loosest possible sense, with 4000+ participants, and being accompanied by a ten year old meant not a lot of running came into it. It was also blazing hot, and we started late, so my daughter moaned a fair bit. A run which I could have probably done in 30-35 mins therefore took us just over an hour. But I was able to point out a long line of people behind us to my daughter, and given that she has of late been feeling rather pathetic about her lack of sporting abilities (sadly she takes after both her parents in this regard), it cheered her up no end to see how many people she beat. (I didn't let on most of them were probably so unfit they'd never walked 5k let alone run it, but somethings are best left unsaid...) Getting over the line before me was even more of an achievement, so though basically the experience was pretty grim: it was hot, badly organised, there were no water stations etc, it was really worth it seeing her face as we came over the line. In ten years time I do hope we're doing proper races together - then she will be beating me hands down...

And finally, earlier this week Ginia and I went to St Thomas' for a party at the Twin's Research Unit to celebrate National Twins' Day. It was great fun and they very kindly gave us the opportunity to talk about our marathon experiences. And we have our picture in today's Daily Mail too boot. Typically, I haven't bought a copy...

If there are any twins out there reading this who would like to take part in the very important research The TRU you does, you can find out more by contacting:

Twin Research & Genetic Epidemiology Unit
on: 020 7188 5555
email: twinrecruitment@gstt.nhs.uk
website: www.twinsUK.ac.uk

So that's it for the moment.... will post more news here when I have it...

2006-06-13T10:29:00.000+01:00

DIARY OF A LAUNCH PARTY...

Well I finally made it - on June 8 2006, I had my launch party and great fun it was too. There are some pics below and an account of the day.

Even my butler came...

Go on, you know you want one!

I've sold a book!

I filled Ottakars, woo!!

Dawnie, you're in my book!

Having felt totally chilled on Wednesday it all went to pot on Wednesday night. Mainly because some idiot at the local council had authorised roadworks in the middle of the night. Monday and Tuesday had been bad enough with lorries beeping loudly as they reversed up the road, but on Wednesday the worst was yet to come. At around ten pm they produced a pneumatic drill. And this, dear reader, was not just any pneumatic drill, it was a great huge F-off pneumatic drill to end all pneumatic drills. I kid you not, when I say the house was shaking... As it was quite apparent we weren't going to get any sleep, my solution was to sink as much red wine as possible. The downside was, as Dave pointed out more then once, we did have to get up in the morning...

At some point in our evening, I decided I ought to write my speech, which probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had... especially as Dave picked me up on every "erm". Still, I felt fairly relaxed as I knew I had alot to say. When I woke up on Thursday with a thumping headache, all I could see was an indecipherable squiggle. I decided to practise it out loud while I cleared away the breakfast things. Half an hour later I decided that I had rather too much to say, but my brain was too addled to work out how to pare it down. I decided a run was in order to clear my head, but first I had to do last minute twiddles to the online launch party.

By the time that was sorted I was an hour later then I wanted to be, so instead of a forty minute leisurely jaunt, I went for a twenty minute tempo run. Maybe not such a good idea in the heat, but halfway round I worked out a much better way of doing my speech...

Once I'd showered it was off to Majestic to pick up some booze and some spare glasses, then a mad dash into Ottakar's to drop everything off, before I picked my youngest up from nursery. One day I will learn to leave myself enough time for things. As it was I didn't get to Ottakars till 11.30 leaving me twenty minutes till pick up time. I was pondering on the way in how I was going to get all the stuff out of my car, when I spotted a Waitrose trolley. Bingo!

So I parked the car, precariously loaded the trolley with three boxes of books, two boxes of wine, some fruit juice and twenty-five glasses (which I had to replace if I broke any) and I was on my way. All was going swimmingly till I came to the entrance of the shopping centre where there was a rather inconvenient slope. At this point my trolley took on a life of its own and whizzed down the slope, with me frantically keeping hold of everything. Having visions of books liberally doused in red wine, I was relieved when we reached the bottom with no more mishaps...

Then it was back to nursery - I was late - and on to pick up my darling mil whose birthday it was. Darling mil being rather aged, and having to walk with the aid of a zimmer on wheels, taking her anywhere can be a rather slow process, and she wanted to go for lunch at a lovely pub on the downs. Which would have been great on a normal day, but today...

I was also mindful of the time I took her and fil out on her birthday several years ago. I was heavily pregnant at the time and in charge of a four year old and a two year old. As we got up to leave my outlaws stood up and both fell over. They blamed each other, naturally, saying one had tugged one way, the other the other way. Upshot of it was that poor old fil broke his hip. So now I am ever conscious of how easily these things can happen. And as mil will insist on getting in and out of the car without help, to say I got a little fraught, is probably putting it mildly....

Fortunately no mishaps occurred this time, and I was able to deposit her safely back, before dashing home to check emails and then off out for the school pick up. I got the kids home, had a quick shower and change, then dashed back into town and took them to McDonald's, and raced round buying mil a birthday present, as I hadn't had time before. My second daughter, who is the drama queen in our house went round the shopping centre telling everyone I was famous till I threatened to dock her pocket money for the rest of her life.

I got to Ottakars early and my Super Organized Friend Jackie (who features in the book) came to help set up. Ginia then helpfully pitched up in time to take the children to the toilet and buy mil some flowers. There was a nervous three-quarters of an hour or so, when I thought no one was going to come, but by about six o'clock people had started arriving. The first was a chap I'd never met before, but he writes for a running mag, and very decently bought a copy of the book to review.

Pretty soon the bookshop was humming with chatter, and I was signing copies like there was no tomorrow. It was great. Made me feel like a film star...

One of my friends turned up in her running gear - she literally dropped in in the middle of a run, which was very appropriate. Several brought their children who ran riot around the shop, which must have added to the stress levels of the poor girl at the till, but she was very patient.

A couple of ex work colleagues also pitched up, which was great and there was a sizeable contingent from our local, most of whom have probably never been in a bookshop in their lives.

I managed to deliver my speech just before seven - I had to hang on for Dave who was detained at work, and this time he didn't mention the erms... - and then everyone had a good old natter before it was time, rather regretfully to leave.

We finally staggered out at about 7.45 - only to discover in a moment of sublime twinly incompetence, both Ginia and I had lost our parking tickets...

Tickets found we went home to raise a glass to mil, with various members of both families.

The party was a great success, I sold 38 copies, and would do it all again tomorrow.

I was so exhausted I should have slept the sleep of the dead, but at 11pm they started drilling again...

With many thanks to all who came, and particularly to Clare and Catherine at Ottakars who worked so hard to make it a success.

2006-06-08T09:23:00.000+01:00

THE PARTY STARTS HERE!!!!

So get your glad rags on, come on down and party on....

Can't believe I've finally made it - nine weeks and one day after John Inverdale mentioned my book on the radio, I have created a website, an online launch party and most importantly a book.

Thanks to all those of you who've supported me on my way and hi to all those runners I've met online in the last few weeks.

Keep on running....

I'll be in and out during the day, but from 4-9pm otherwise occupied by the physical launch party I'm having tonight. So if I'm not posting that's why. Feel free to chat amongst yourselves!

Love Juliax

2006-05-22T11:04:00.000+01:00

WELCOME TO THE RUNNING ON EMPTY LAUNCH PARTY

Hi and welcome to the online launch party for my book: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum, which will be running from 8-15 June 2006.

If you haven't been to an online launch party (or any online party for that matter!) don't worry, it's not as weird as it seems. Just chill out as you would for a normal party, have a drink (at least a metaphorical one anyway) and find some people to chat to.

There is a little spot just for runners to talk about their PBs, injuries and best ever runs without boring the pants of non-runners.

And for non-runners, pull a stool up at the bar and join in the chat about everything and anything you can think of. Runners, of course are welcome there too (unless you're purifying your bodies of course!).

There's also a competition to win a signed copy of my book. And a couple of discussion forums for people to chat away about the things that bug them.

And of course... ever the self-promoter (me, I will happily confess to being a tart when it comes to selling books, particularly my own), you can buy a copy of the book...

And if you're still here and not got drunk and disgraced yourself in the corner, you might like to read my Diary of How to Sell a Book When You Don't Actually Have One...

So please, introduce yourself here, and tell me what you're wearing, what you're drinking, who you've come with. (And yes, you are allowed to exaggerate - I am a writer after all. So let's just say, I've pulled up in my stretch limo, and am wearing a fabulous little black number designed by Armani, who is of course, a personal friend...)

Crack open the bubbly, chill out and enjoy....

Juliax

I would like to extend my huge thanks to the following people:

Kate Allan for coming up with the idea of an online launch party in the first place, and generously not minding me pinching it!
My many friends in the Romantic Novelist's Association who have been such a support.
The lovely Wesham Road Runners, in particular Brian Porter and Brenda Earnshaw. Good luck to all those running in the Freckleton Half Marathon on June 18!
My mad twin sister, Virginia, without whom I would never ever have contemplated running a marathon.
My lovely husband, Dave, for putting our marriage on the line and daring to tell me what was wrong with the book!
And in particular to John Inverdale for generously mentioning my book on Radio 2 and setting me on my way...

2006-05-22T11:02:00.000+01:00

COMPETITION TIME!

I have been running a competition on my website for anyone who can either name something you see running the London Marathon that you don't see on TV, or if you haven't yet run FLM (and you must, oh, you must!) the funniest thing you've seen out running. And ok, ok, if you're not a runner, you can enter by telling me the funniest thing you've seen out walking then.

My funniest thing was going for a cliffside run in Spain. I found the path I was running along had disappeared, and the only way forward was to scramble over some rocks, and leap into the water to get to the beach I was headed for. As I came round the corner, ready to leap, I met several rather large Spanish Senoras, fully dressed, having a splash about in the sea. It was a tossup as to who was more nonplussed...

The winner will receive a bottle of bubbly, and the two runners up a signed copy of my book. There, I can't say fairer then that, can I?

To enter, email me at: jules@marathonmum.com

I'll post the name of thewinner at the end of the party...

2006-05-22T11:01:00.000+01:00

RUNNER'S FORUM

Whether you're a complete newbie or established marathon runner (or even an ultra runner - you crazy person), pull up a stool, kick off your trainers, and chat about all things running here...

And if you're not a runner, why not eavesdrop, and then you'll understand what a totally obsessive sport this running malarkey is. (I'm obsessed and I still don't count myself a proper runner!)

2006-05-22T11:00:00.000+01:00

BUYING THE BOOK

Now come on now, you didn't think you were going to come to a launch party and not be sold something did you? Like I said, I'm a tart, me, I'll sell my books to anyone who'll buy one...

However, as you've been brilliantly supportive enough to come to my online party, here's the deal.I offer you the book at the fabulously discounted price of £5.99, plus £2 p&p (sold in the shops for £8.99), and I'll even send you a signed copy. How about it?

To order the book email me at: jules@marathonmum.com, and I'll send you an order form. If you have paypal you can pay me that way. And remember a percentage of the profits from Running on Empty, will be going direct to Tadworth Court's Children's Trust.

To find out more about the fabulous work they do, visit: http://www.thechildrenstrust.org.uk- I can guarantee you won't fail to be moved by the stories you'll find there.

And while I'm in selling mode, why not also buy my friend Taryn's book: A November to Remember, the story of her courageous fight against bowel cancer. A percentage of profits from that book will be going to Lynn's Bowel Cancer Campaign. To find out more, visit: http://www.anovembertoremember.co.uk

And if you're interested... I will be running Race for Life with my daughter and several friends on July 2 2006. I haven't promised to raise much money (I did ask an awful lot of all my friends last year, so don't like to badger), but the race is in aid of cancer research. So if you did feel generous enough to sponsor me, you can do so by going to:
http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/marathonmumandfriends
But please don't feel obliged!

The £5.99 offer only applies to books ordered directly through my website, or via my email address. Unfortunately it cannot apply to books sold via Amazon or your local bookshop.

2006-05-22T10:49:00.000+01:00

SO YOU'RE NOT A RUNNER? NEVER MIND...

We won't bite. So c'me on, pull up a stool, grab a drink, lean on the

bar and chew the fat, about well - anything.

So whether it's the World Cup or Big Brother that tickles your fancy, or The Da Vinci Code or whether you should enter the next series of The Apprentice (OTOH, maybe it would be nice to have a DVC-free zone!), feel free to chat about it here. And who knows you might come across some of those strange running types who'll inspire you to greater things...

2006-05-17T22:11:00.000+01:00

HOW TO SELL A BOOK YOU DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE YET...

OR DIARY OF A NIGHTMARE...

Feb/March 2005
I am in the middle of marathon training. It's cold and wet, and to keep my spirits up I post merry little accounts of my doings to my very good writing friends on one of my e-groups. Some of the accounts seem to get the thumbs up, particularly one I write (in what I hope is an amusing vein) about what you do when you're out running and need the loo...

It occurs to me (ever one to spot a commercial opportunity) that maybe I should write up some of these doings and put them in a book. The trouble is most of them are posted online, I haven't got time to save them all, and I have a marathon to run... The idea goes on hold...

May 2005
The marathon's over, and it feels like there's a big hole in my life. The euphoria of crossing the line has diminished, I still ache everywhere, and running has kind of lost its appeal. But having a good response from people I've emailed my account of my marathon day too, I decide that this book thing might be a goer. Added to which over the last couple of years, I have been watching in envy and awe, several people with no previous publishing knowledge self-publishing their books and making a success of it. Hell, I've worked in publishing for seventeen years, if they can do it, surely, so can I?

June 2005
By dint of trawling through emails I've sent in the last year (a laborious process, and I'm only up to August) I've cobbled together enough background to start the book. I'm going to call it Running on Empty, because I was most of the time. My idea is to write a light-hearted account of my experiences, to try and inspire other wannabes. As a serial non-runner before all this nonsense started, I genuinely feel if I can run a marathon, anyone can...

I also want to donate a percentage of any profits to The Children's Trust. They are such a wonderful charity and their support for my efforts has been top notch.

July 2005
I've written a synopsis and three sample chapters. My agent doesn't normally deal with this kind of material so she suggests a few small independent publishers to send it to. I do and get nowhere. The summer holidays are coming up, my work time is limited, perhaps it's no good? I put the idea on hold...

A rather fatal mistake...

October-December 2005
My friend Taryn has written a book about her battle with bowel cancer, entitled A November to Remember. I've been an editor long enough to know when I've hit gold dust. So I offer to help self publish through a company I've heard of, who use Print on Demand technology to produce books. It's an incredibly cheap and effective way of getting something out there.

Taryn's book takes over for a while, but seeing how easy it is to produce a book POD has given me the confidence to have a go at the marathon book again. My agent meanwhile has got another publisher to send it to, so I promise to revise the sample chapters in the New Year. My aim would be to get a book out for next year's marathon. And like Mr Incredible, I still have time ... just.

January 2006
I've nearly finished editing Taryn's book, and in a lull, I go haring off on my marathon account. Thanks to my computer crashing and dying in the autumn I have lost ALL my emails from the previous year, and AOL have no way of getting them back. They've vanished - pouf! - into the ether. Bugger. I spend about a week trawling through the home page of my egroups and manage to get everything back eventually. Phew! Now I have something to work on.

Having very little time, I send my agent the sample chapters, but my aim is to finish the whole thing and get to work on finishing the damned thing. Interspersed with all of this of course is my normal work, plus the usual mayhem of looking after the kids, and dealing with afterschool clubs. I so long for days when I can work 9-5, but I expect I'll miss all this when I get there...

February 2006
I manage to finish the marathon book, and send it to my agent, who really likes it. She sends it to a publisher, but in a way I wish that I could go hell for leather with the self publishing malarkey. Taryn and I have nearly finished her book. Although we keep finding errors and things are always changing, so there are days when I think we'll never put it to bed...

March 2006
Marathon book on hold as agent hasn't heard from publisher. I am getting twitchy. London Marathon coming up very soon, and if the publisher take it on there is no way that it will be out in time. If they don't take it on, there is no way I can get it out in time... It's a lose lose situation.

On a more heartening note, I send the book to my brother in South Africa and he writes me a cheery email to say how much he enjoyed it. I have shown bits to various friends - lots of them are mentioned in it, and I don't want to offend anyone - and so far the responses have been positive.

After a few hiccups, Taryn finally has a book. It's taken just under six months to get from ms to final copies - which given that we have nine kids between us, isn't bad going. And now I know I can do it for the marathon book, if need be.

My agent emails to say the publishers aren't interested. Damn and double damn. With less then a month to the marathon, I have no chance of getting this thing out in time. Still, I think, I'll give it a go and see what happens...

So I start to turn my manuscript into a book. I know I should show Dave - he's in it, and he also has a very clear critical eye - but showing your written work to your spouse is the literary equivalent of having driving lessons with them. It is such a no no...

April 2006
Week One
It is the Easter holidays, and Dave has a week off. One day I am cooking tea and I hear John Inverdale on Radio 2's Drivetime talking about the London Marathon and what tunes people run to. In my last few weeks of training it was Show me the Way to Amarillo (as the kids loved it) and Black Horse on a Cherry Tree. I fire off an email about my book, mention my blog, and when it doesn't get read out think nothing more of it.

The next day we go to Legoland with some friends. We don't get back till gone seven, but when we do it is to gobsmacking news. There are two messages on the answerphone. John Inverdale has read out my email, mentioned my book and my blog! Oo-er missus. The only problem is, I don't actually have a book....

I send John another email to say that I haven't yet got books, but am working on it. I post a message on my blog to let people know the situation. And then I email Taryn. She has done a website for A November to Remember. How did she do it? Taryn gives me the details and I set about buying a domain and sorting out a website. Meanwhile John Inverdale generously gives me another plug - which is fabulous. But oh, the frustration of having this much free publicity and nothing to sell!

On Good Friday, Dave spends the morning watching King Kong with kids, while I construct a website. Luckily it isn't too hard. I post the details on my blog, hastily cobble together a top tunes to run to competition and sit back. I've had a couple of messages on my blog and twenty-two extra hits, so somebody is out there...

Late on Friday evening I get a message from someone who kindly wants to post my details on his runner's group website, The Wesham Road Runners. Woo! The power of the internet. This makes me think about other runner's forums. So I scour the net, posting messages wherever I can, mentioning the book, my website, my competition...

The response is a slow steady trickle of people emailing me with their top tunes to run to. My favourite is Highway to Hell.

WeekTwo
The kids are back at school, all except Stephanie - her nursery have inconveniently taken a month's holiday. Not only that, when she does go back it's mid week, followed by a bank holiday, so it's going to be the second week in May before I get some serious work in.

Still, by dint of ignoring all my other work I am ploughing through the proofs. I've got my designer mate working on a cover, so things are progressing. I take some extracts from the book and the week before the marathon email anyone and everyone I can think of. The person I'm really after is Lorraine Kelly - she ran the marathon last year and was refreshingly honest about how hard it was. For a plodder like me, it was dispiriting to read about celeb after celeb who was posting superfast times.

But it's hard being a nobody, running a company that no one has heard of, as really, why would anyone look at you? On the other hand, I've been in this business long enough to know that word of mouth is what sells unknown books. So if I can just get it going by increasing chatter on the running forums I've been on (I am much helped here by a group called Runner's Forum who kindly let me publish extracts from the book), maybe I can generate some hype all on my own. The internet is without a doubt a fantastic tool for a fledgling publisher - go to the right places and information can be spread, I hope like wildfire...

Week Three
The marathon comes and goes - I watch it feeling immensely jealous I'm not there, but enjoying showing the children where I ran last year. The following week I pound the forums again, email all the running mags, the London Marathon team... You name it, I do it. I'm thrilled to get a response from Sir Steve Redgrave's office. He is such a hero. Wish I had been running it this year, as he'd have crossed the line just after me...

Week Four
Meanwhile Dave has finally got round to reading the book. I know this is a mistake when I come back to find him having only got to page 50 and shaking his head despairingly. I know he's trying to help, but he does this to me when we're playing Scrabble. As he is a scientist and I am an artist, it gives him great pleasure to get one over me in the words department. I try to point out to him that every book has typos in, that's why you need another eye...

The resulting row means he doesn't look at it again for another week - as I am waiting to hear from The Children's Trust I can't do anything till then anyway. So he gets a week's grace...

May 2006

Week One
I am beginning to get twitchy again. Rob has produced a wonderful cover, but I can't do anything with it till the insides are sorted. Eventually, after much headshaking (Dave), much lipbiting (me - ok I'll admit I'm an oversensitive little flower), he gives it the go-ahead and I have two days to check and correct and check again... Then it's off to the print shop to get a pdf file, go the printer's website and upload my file. Rob has sent me a disk with the cover on, but I don't have Quark so can't open it. So I send it to the company I am using, who send it on to their parent company in the States. This turns out to be a big big mistake...

I decide I should have a book launch, and ring Ottaker's up. They are very supportive of local authors, so one Saturday I pop in with the youngest two offspring (who behave appallingly) and organise a launch for 8 June. I am confident we'll have books by then.

Week Two
With a sigh of relief, I turn my attention away from the marathon back to the romantic novel I have been writing for the past two years. It's set around some allotments, and I am dying to write a scene where the hero and heroine part company in what I hope will be an emotionally turbulent scene. One of them is going to throw the engagement ring the hero had been planning to give her into an allotment from whence it will emerge sitting on a leaf in Spring, ready for them to find for the denoument scene when they make up (lest you think that too fanciful, Dave lost his wedding ring just after we were married in a similar way). The scene in the best tradition of nineteenth century fiction will take place in the pouring rain (the weather rather unsubtly reflecting the emotion of the characters. Well if George Eliot can do it, why can't I?)

May is a busy month for us with two birthdays, and a Holy Communion to organise, so I take my eye off the ball for a bit, till I spot a digital print shop on the way back from church. Great, I'll pop in there and sort out invites and posters for the launch.

By the middle of the month I am getting slightly anxious that nothing much seems to be happening. My account still says I am waiting for materials. I am? What happened to the disk I sent? I start chasing and get nowhere. Eventually on the 17th I discover that the disk has disappeared. After much toing and froing I manage to get Rob to upload the cover onto the website. I wish I'd done that in the first place. If there is a problem with the proof, as there no doubt will be, I am running out of time to correct it and get it back so the books will be ready for printing. And we're away for half term, the week before the launch party...

My contact at the printers assures me all will be well, so I am shutting my eyes, taking a deep breath and hoping for the best.

Week Three
An RNA contact Kate Allan has recently invited me to her online launch party. I couldn't make it, but it gets me thinking. In order to reach all those runners worldwide, an online launch party might be just the ticket. So I email Kate and ask if she minds me pinching her idea, and how she did it. She is very helpful, so I set up a blog, and spend a happy evening downloading pictures, and trying to work out what should go on the damned thing, while Dave sits downstairs cursing at Arsenal's misfortune.

The blog now set up, all I need is a book, a means of taking money off people, and then we're away... I think...

Week Four
After all the hiccups, a proof is finally on it's way to me. I have been handing out invites like billy-oh. Am absolutely amazed at how supportive people are. Also how what to me is a rather mundane working environment seems much more glamorous to other people. Will you sign my book they keep saying. Of course, that's the point, but er, I am really a nobody! Hopefully I can get lots of people into Ottaker's, who have also been immensely supportive.

I also send out invites to people I don't see regularly, try to drum up some press interest, set up a paypal account and a PO box address, so I can handle orders myself. Is there anything else I should be doing? Probably - this is where I miss working in a company, it would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off.

On the other hand, for the first time since I've been freelance, I've been in total control of a project from start to finish.

I'm having a ball...

23 May
Stop press! A month to the day since the London Marathon, and I have a copy of my book. Wooo! The wonders of digital print. There are the inevitable (minor) corrections - I hope I've got them all - and I make them, rush down to the print shop before the school run, and get back in time to upload them onto the website. Then I dash off to school to proudly show off my baby, before taking the kids to their swimming lessons. While I'm there I hand out four more invitations - one to a mum from Steph's nursery who's thinking of running the marathon next year...

So by Friday I should be able to press the go button, which is just a bit exciting.

My only problem now is finding someone kind enough to accept 200 books for me, whilst I'm away...

June 2006

If only life were that simple.

We duly trot off to Germany on holiday with two grannies and four children, plus my laptop. I cunningly buy a set of adaptors, some of which are supposed to work out there, but of course, they don't... Three days into our holiday I am still struggling with it. I look for internet cafes in vain - the town we are staying with being somewhat of a backwater, and as we are here to visit my mil's aged rellies time being somewhat short. I am slightly amused the day we go to the place where my mil grew up, a beautiful mediaeval town en route to Berlin, and ask at the cafe we are in if there is an internet cafe there. We are the only cafe in Gardelegen I am assured firmly. Hmm. I thought the Wall came down fifteen years ago... but evidently the world wide web hasn't quite got here yet.

In the end in desperation I ring up the company (in hindsight I should have done that on Monday) to discover that NOTHING has happened. As we are leaving Gardelegen and the children are all causing mayhem in the car I get a phone call to say that there is a problem with my revised proof. Cue F***** F*** Hugh Grant moment - why didn't they tell me last week????? Could you upload it again? they ask. Er, no I'm in Germany. We'll have to charge you to change it. Just DO IT!!! I am by now screaming down the phone, AND send me my books!!!

Friday morning while in an old people's nursing home visiting mil's sister, I ring to check progress and am told that a proof will be generated by the end of the day. Please ring me back and confirm I say(given that my mobile is eating pounds faster then I can breathe) - needless to say no phone call came...

We got back on the Saturday and I check online - my proof has been generated but my order is pending. I can feel the blood pressure rising. Should I cancel the launch party? I have no idea what to do. It's about eight years since I've had this kind of pressure with a deadline. Whose idea was it to self publish again?

By Sunday I have calmed down a bit. Getting stressed isn't going to change anything. I have given out so many invites to the party I have no idea who's coming. I can't cancel now. Maybe I should hold a bookless launch party and just take orders - it would be a novel approach... And as my sister points out, rather postmodern.

Three days to go...
On Monday I ring up and am promised it will be sorted...

I have also cocked up on the PO Box front. You wouldn't believe how long it takes - I sent all the stuff off only to get it returned as I had misread the bit on the form that says you need to submit bills that are less then three months old to prove your address.

Less then three days to go and I don't have books, or any means of taking orders.

I think I may be grey by the end of the week...

Two days to go...

Phew! I think... I've spoken to the printers and they have promised books will be despatche dto me tomorrow night. I am shutting my eyes and holding my breath. When I wake up it will be Thursday morning and I will have my books.

Am now trying to sort out temporary PO box with Mail Box Etc. It is three times the price of the PO version, but I should get it sorted today instead of sometime never.

Nearly forgot that had to take littlies to a hospital appointment, so day now severely curtailed. Have emailed all the running forums I am on to remind them of the launch party. Checked my blog and I have had an extra 200 hits in the last week. Wow. And 32 hits at the party blog, even though launch party not open yet.

Trying to work out a mailing list of people I think should receive a copy.

Books also need to go out the lovely people at Freckleton who are running a half marathon on June 18 and have been very supportive. And I need to sort out order forms to go up there too.

Am sure there's loads I've forgotten, but the good news is that my book is finally up at Amazon. Wooohoo!!! Now that's a great feeling. From ms to finished book in around seven weeks. Infinitely more stressful then running the marathon, but hurrah for digital print!

One day to go...

The morning passes in a flurry of activity chasing up the local press, who seem interested but haven't come up with anything concrete yet. Dave and I are shattered as for the previous two nights the local authorities have seen fit to dig up our road, so we have been kept awake till two by lorries reversing up and down the road. They seem to have the knack of putting on the reversing beeps just as you drift off to sleep...

I wait till late morning to chase the books and am told the good news they will be leaving at midday... To my amazement and relief they actually arrive at 1.30. Thank the lord. Now I can sit back and relax.

That is, until I realise that I still have a speech to write, need to buy the drinks and nibblesI've forgotten that it's mil's birthday, and I'm taking her out for lunch... Hmm, once again I'm going to be running on empty...

2006-05-17T20:21:00.000+01:00

DISCUSSION TOPIC: HOW NOT TO RUN A MARATHON

by Virginia Moffatt

This contribution by my inspiring twin sister, is a real warts and all account of what can go wrong... and she still finished!

This is a cautionary tale for anyone out there might be in the position I was, slightly unfit, getting back into running, and thinking of next year. I think hubris is the appropriate term to describe what happened next…

Oh dearie me, it all felt so easy when I rang Julia up two years ago. Having watched the rain soaked Marathon of 2004,I had started running again after a ten year lull and was having a blast, rediscovering the joys of pushing myself and simply flying through the roads.

So I really really did think I could pick up where my twenty-something self left off. After all when I started running at twenty, I found that from a slow coach amateur puffing her way through a mile to a speedy eight minute miler covering six miles seemed to happen with little effort, hardly any thought and nary a decent pair of trainers. So going for the Marathon in our fortieth year, and fulfilling a dream I had had since my twenties seemed just the ticket.

But how times change. Alas the nearly forty body isn’t so pliable as the twenty year version. Add to this ten years of sloth, three babies in four years having made me two and half stone heavier, created jelly of my stomach muscles and given me a permanent back ache that I hardly ever noticed, and I was bound to get into trouble.

The first bit was simple – building up my mileage to three to four miles wasn’t hard, and running on a beautiful country road with the sheep and the birds, the odd snake and stunning sunsets was exhiliarating. That summer I entered two 5K races and was pleased to see my time improve on the second, even though it was a scorching twenty-eight degrees. So the autumn programme I blithely sent to Julia seemed eminently doable. All it would take, I arrogantly thought, was to follow the programme and the miles would pile up, we would speed up and by Christmas be in a great place to start training proper.

Yeah right. It was when things went above five miles that it all started going pear shaped. The first inkling was around half term when I was coming back from a nice enjoyable run and started noticing a niggling ache down my right leg. I iced it, and rested for a few days, and there it was back again when I did my six miles. So I trotted off to a non-running GP (never again) who misdiagnosed a pulled muscle. Two weeks off, no problem, at least it wasn’t my training proper.

Oh but when I went back it was worse than ever, and I was getting shooting pains all the way down. It seemed to me like sciatica. I had had a bit in my last pregnancy and not thought about it since, so off to a physio who agreed with me. Four weeks of expensive physiotherapy and no running later, I started back again. By this time it was nearly Christmas I had lost weeks of valuable time and was starting back on one to two miles, when I’d hoped to be at ten.

This was the first point when I thought about pulling out. I had not got a place in the main ballot and was waiting to see if Mencap would give me one. Perhaps my early injury was a sign that 2005 was not the year for me? But, but, but… I really wanted to do it the year we were forty, the twenty-fifth anniversary and fulfil my long-held dream. Waiting another year seemed too far away, particularly since Julia had now got a place and was breezing along with nine and ten mile runs.

So I carried on and probably pretty stupidly got back up to five/six miles way too quickly. The week after we went on a January 1st hellish hill run, I tried to go for a gentle three miler. I lasted a mile before my back gave out and I noticed a twinge in my right knee. By this time I had just accepted a place with Mencap, but I had not yet advertised the fact and here again was another chance to stop. My buts were still stronger than my common sense, however, so I went back to a different GP as I could not afford any more private physiotherapy. He recommended some NHS physio and ibuprofen before runs to reduce the inflammation. So I was back on.

All went swimmingly for another three weeks or so, my mileage built up slowly with the programme. I attended the back clinic and religiously followed the exercises. Two weeks running I had spectacularly good ten mile runs, the second faster than the first. And although I had lots of niggles I thought I could get away with ignoring them. But the following week disaster struck.

One Tuesday morning I got up to run my twelve mile run. It was cold, it was grey, and it started snowing halfway round. The wind was bitter, and my legs hurt from the off. I ignored them. I could also feel a cold coming on. I ignored it. Three or four miles from home I was aware my back and right thigh were in a lot of pain. I ignored it. Two miles to go, it was a lot worse. Nearly home I thought through gritted teeth. One and a half miles from home it happened, shooting pains from my hip to my knee sent my muscles into an exruciating spasm. Run? I could barely walk. I hobbled miserably home in freezing cold winds – now what?

All I could do was rest it for a couple of days, made a bit easier by a heavy cold that laid me low anyway. The pain didn’t go away so off I trotted to the GP again, this time asking for one who could run. He tested my knees and diagnosed iliotibial band syndrome. A common problem for runners particularly those who were running longer distances in short times. More rest, more exercises and a programme that was rapidly reducing by the minute. Being a runner he understood my mad obsession and advised I could do it but would have to be careful. So after a real dark night of the soul, I decided to press ahead.

And here I have to confess that despite all my cheeriness to Julia, I was harbouring a huge case of sour gripes. Every time we spoke she seemed to have run further and faster, had no major problems and be having much more fun than me. It didn’t seem fair, this after all had been my dream for years – why couldn’t it be so simple for me? (As for all those dream team stories in Runner’s World – well disheartening ain’t the word). But I am nothing if not determined (or perhaps just an obstinate bugger) and the thought of not being there still outweighed the idea of giving up.

So I went on, for another eight weeks of abandoned runs, several heavy colds interrupting training, slowing speeds, and had to adopt a walk/run strategy just to get the miles in. Every week brought another chance to sit it out, and every week increased my cussedness. I spent half my time at the doctor’s and half swigging echinacea, chomping vitamin C, iron tablets, ibuprofen and glucosamine.

And so to the final fortnight. Two weeks before the big day I ran a brilliant ten miler, about fifteen minute slower than the previous one, but never mind. A week before I ran a great six miler, relatively fast for my times. I was upbeat for the first time in weeks. Whatever the pain, whatever the speed (and I had abandoned realistic hope of under five hours, although a girl can still dream) I was going to run all the way round.

Then on the Friday, I woke up with a heavy head cold. I couldn’t believe it. The Marathon Team give you lots of dire warnings about making sure you are fit and here I was after all this effort and I felt lousy. But at this late stage I just couldn’t bear to pull out. Next year seemed a lifetime away and I couldn’t face going back to all my sponsors and asking them to put it on hold for a year. A friend from the school playground recommended sudafed, and sure enough I took two on Friday, woke up on Saturday and felt a lot better. So I took another on Saturday night and one on Sunday and hoped this would do the trick.

And so to the start, and after the excitement of losing Julia, we were off. With all my training lapses, I found the eleven minute pace a bit fast for me, and so I thought initially my feeling peculiar was down to that. The miles clocked on, Julia was upbeat and excited, enjoying us pacing ourselves so well. I felt worse and worse, sick and dizzy and overwhelmed by the crowds, the noise and the heat. South London is where I lived and worked for many years, and I had been looking forward to running through the familiar streets. But it was a total nightmare.

Eventually at five miles, when a lucozade drink had no immediate effect I told Julia to go on hoping that slowing down would help. By this time I was feeling hot and cold and struggling to move one step in front of another. The Cutty Sark was a complete let down, all I could think was how am I going to get another nineteen miles. Just before eight miles I stopped for a toilet break and a think. Despite the twenty-four degrees my skin was covered in goose pimples and I was shivering and nauseous. This was the lowest of all my low points. After everything I had been through, I realised something was badly wrong, and I seriously might have to stop. However much I wanted to run the Marathon, I did not want to die in the attempt, and I either had to pull out now or do something drastic.

I took a deep breath and had a good think. Eventually I decided that my bad feelings might be to do with the fact that I was wearing two tight knee bandages. I had used one for long runs in training and it had got me round, but in the last couple of weeks had gone to two because both knees were hurting. Perhaps the combination of heat, my head cold, a little too much water at the start, and the effect on my circulation had had a bad effect on my body. I knew that taking the bandages off meant inevitably my knees would hurt, and it was unlikely that I would get away without walking. But it was my only chance of getting to the finish. So I sat by the side of the road, took the bandages off and left them behind.

From that moment on I felt a whole lot better, and never thought of giving up again. I knew that all I could do now was get round, so my finishing time and even running all the way round were just not important anymore. By the time I got to Tower Bridge my knees were hurting, but the dizziness was gone, and I could keep moving. So from that point onwards I ran some walked some. As a result, I staggered round the course, my knee at one point swelling like a balloon, but had a great time at the back of the pack (highly recommend it if you ever get in the same situation) and finally made it across the line four hours after Paula Radcliffe (yes that’s right a staggering 6 hrs 15).

So yes, you can run a Marathon despite all this, you can complete it and have a great day. But it comes at a price. If you want a slightly easier journey (and no journey to the Marathon is easy) give yourself a bit more time, but if you have some mad personal reason to go for it next year, well at least you can be prepared for the worst.

A year later I am still running, just about. I have a bad back still and have taken a long break and had some expensive chiropractic treatment. But I am slowly getting back in and am going for the Oxford Town and Gown 10K in a couple of weeks. Given where my back and fitness levels are at, I fully expect to plod along at the back of the pack, but someone has to be behind you super-fitties. One day I expect I will sort out my physical problems, and improve my speed. I still believe ten minute miles are achievable, though I doubt I could ever get back to eight minute ones (if I ever really did – maybe my memory is a bit faulty) But you know what? Running by the River Thames last Saturday on a beautiful Spring evening, still is the best high I know, and that elusive four and a half hour marathon still beckons. At forty-five perhaps? Watch this space…….

I'm pleased to announce that Ginia did that Town and Gown in 66mins - way to go girl!!!

2006-05-17T20:13:00.001+01:00

DISCUSSION TOPIC: FIT FOR LIFE?

Two years ago, I couldn’t run a mile. Apart from one 10k I was once conned into doing for charity, I had never run a race in my life. So when my twin sister suggested we ran the London Marathon together in our 40th year, I thought she was completely barking. Why on earth should I, a serial non-runner, even dream of doing anything so daft?

And yet … and yet … somehow the idea stayed and lodged deep within my psyche. I had already decided I wanted to raise money for a wonderful charity I know called Tadworth Court Children’s Trust, which looks after children with very severe needs, and the marathon was an obvious way to do it.

Which is how I found myself two summers ago pounding up and down Epsom Downs after dropping the kids off at school. To my utter amazement, I found that once I had established that I could run a mile (actually not too hard, as it turned out, because I walk a lot and that has kept me fairly fit), it wasn’t too difficult to then push the distances, and before long I found I was regularly running three to four miles. And not only that, I was actually enjoying it.

I’ve written an account of the ups and downs of my marathon training, called Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum, which I hope will inspire other no hopers like me. Take it from me, if I can run a marathon, anyone can.

While I was writing the book, I started to think about why it was that I was so anti-running before, and I realised that I actually had very negative feelings about sport in general. It wasn’t just that I didn’t regard myself as a runner, I actually felt that I had no right to be there. I felt a fraud throughout most of my training, and still do to an extent. Sure, I’ve run a marathon, but sporty? That’s just not me.

I realized that my feelings had their roots in my experiences of PE at school, which weren’t exactly positive. Our PE teacher tended to favour the sporty kids, and the rest of us could more or less lump it. I was marginally better off then my twin sister, Ginia, in that I could at least play tennis, but the pair of us were pretty much written off as “duffers” which was the appalling phrase she used to refer to us also-rans.

When I think about it, my negative feelings about sport generally went even further back, to my primary school days when Ginia and I found ourselves time after time in the ignominious position of being picked last in the rounders team. We soon learnt that sport wasn’t for us and we had no place there.

I have four children, all girls, and they too are learning that sport isn’t for them. This is mainly because of the disastrous political correctness that has taken hold in schools so the dread word “competition” has come to be seen almost as a dirty word.

Which is why I think it is so important that everyone who is a parent (and women particularly, as generally we still have the greatest daily influence on our offspring) makes it their priority to get their kids out exercising. Sport shouldn’t just be for the sporty, it should be for everyone, however much of duffers we are.

Because, another thing I realised when I was writing my book, was this. Although organized sport in school pretty much passed me by, sport I enjoyed did not. Thanks mainly to my mother who taught me to play tennis (and a very sporty brother who thrashed me at it regularly) made me walk everywhere and packed me off swimming every Saturday, I was pretty active in my teens.

During my early twenties, a couple of sudden bursts of getting overweight were enough to send me haring to aerobics classes, and I kept that up, along with my swimming till the children came along.

Once I started having babies, I lost sight of doing “proper” exercise as I thought for a number of years. But in fact, because I walk everywhere, the years I spent pushing a buggy around weren’t wasted. When I finally made that momentous decision to go for that run, I actually accomplished it with relative ease, as my base levels of fitness were probably better then they’ve been for my entire adult life.

And I want to keep it that way. Which is why I am still running (and hope to enter the marathon again), have got back into tennis, and am swimming and going to the gym as much as possible. My next goal after another marathon is to have a go at the triathlon – I could never have even envisaged that a few years ago.

But it’s not only for myself that I want to get fit, but for my children. I want them to learn from me that sport isn’t something they should be barred from, but something they deserve to have as part of their everyday life. I am delighted that three of the four want to learn tennis – at last I’ll have someone to play with! – they all swim, the one who doesn’t play tennis does gymnastics, and my doing the marathon has awakened an interest in running in all of them. The oldest is about to start a running club, and the next one down has already declared the ambition of running a marathon one day.

Given that London has been granted the 2012 Olympics, it seems to me there is a wonderful opportunity to be grasped here, to offer today’s children a better choice then we had. Sure, we need to train our athletes and get our elite teams together, but sport shouldn’t just be about the best, it should also be about those who try their best and achieve their own personal goals. As a mother, I can make sure my children are fit for life, and I really hope the initiatives will come to support me in that.

Sport isn’t the preserve of the elite, but the right of all of us. And if we are to avoid having a generation of obese and inactive children we have to do something about it today.