marathonmummy

If this the runner’s high, I think it should probably be a class A drug! Just done the BEST run ever on the treadmill.

Started with a five minute gentle jog, then I did run 2 minutes, walk 1 minute for almost an hour on 1% incline, finishing with a couple of minutes run on a 5% incline. It was amazing. I’ve been reading about running styles and I had a feeling that if I could get out of the heelstriking habit I’d be able to solve the whole pain in the shins, legs giving up before I ran out of breath problem.

I ran the whole thing landing on my forefoot, and I felt a million times lighter, which isn’t bad going for someone who is about as far from a runner in physique as it’s possible to be. I’ve noticed before when Jessica runs she sort of floats along (Jessica is now going to comment and say something disparaging about herself, I predict) and I think that’s partly down to the fact that she is a forefoot runner. Oh, and partly down to the fact that she probably weighs about half what I do.
This is all a bit inarticulate because I’m so excited about how easy it was tonight compared to any other run, and because it was so good I want to bounce up and down squeaking with glee. That doesn’t translate very well to the written word though, so just imagine it.

or looking after children, or drinking cups of tea and avoiding running, or trying to persuade people to come here and read my blog, or to sponsor me…

I am one of the 63336.

Our first ever tv advert aired today. It’s very exciting. Now I’m off to hit the treadmill, because it’s 3C out there and I am a girly wuss who should be ashamed to call myself Scottish and I don’t like the cold.

Have a look here.

This week, not today. But I had you going for a minute there, didn’t I?

Today: 3.7 miles

In public.

With running trousers on.

In the middle of the day.

Today was groundbreaking stuff. I ran with Paula, who is sneakily fitter than she lets on, due to her strange habit of using the time when her smallest one is at preschool with my smallest one to go and do Body Combat classes at the gym. I on the other hand prefer to relax in the nearest coffee shop and eat a bacon sandwich on the pretext of doing the Christmas shopping.  I can write this safe in the knowledge that Mr Marathonmummy never reads my blog, probably because he has to live with my incessant witterings on a daily basis, and has done for nearly 15 years.

Anyway, back to running. So up the hill we went, walking because we were warming up and not because the hill is hideous at all. Run run run, walk walk walk, run run run, walk walk walk. Onto the main road which has a footpath but also has lorries and things driving past at 60mph. Note to self: slightly short, loose fitting t-shirt + backdraft from lorries = bit of an eyeful for the following cars. I ended up having to jog along holding the hem of my top to avoid scaring the drivers. Run run, walkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkchatchat, oops this isn’t marathon trainingrunrunrun, up a hill (vomit), down a hill (clever trick from P: lengthen stride slightly to avoid hideous jarring feeling, and it works), run run run. Passed whilst running by someone we know, so we have proof it really happened, then home for water, stretching, cups of tea and oh the absolute bliss of a hot bath in the middle of the day. Thank goodness for preschoolers who still have an afternoon nap.

Paula: Right, shall we run when we get to that post?

Me: Yes, good idea.

(post passes>

Paula: We’re still not running, have you noticed?

Me: But we’re thinking about running. That counts, doesn’t it?

So this week’s mileage is 13.6. Hooray for me, and for lovely running chums, and for all the moral support from people telling me they think I must be mad but well done.

Did an hour on the treadmill this afternoon (whilst watching Strictly It Takes Two, which is second only to Strictly on my favourite things to watch whilst torturing myself list). First half an hour I used the snazzy newly-discovered heart-rate-related programme, whereby I told the machine how old I was and it told me my maximum heart rate for fitness (140) and for fatburning (120+). It then took me on an exciting journey of hilly walking which kept my heartrate at 140 for half an hour (I’m hurting already, so will be expecting to have a bum like Beyonce by next April) and then I did half an hour alternating brisk walking of the help-this-is-torture variety, gentle jogging of the oh-this-is-nice variety and running at 6mph which is a 10 minute mile and which currently makes me want to vomit, so all in all it’s not my favourite mode of transport. I’m getting fitter though, I can feel it. After an hour I was tempted to carry on – it’s like a drug. I think I may be in the zone at last! Now all I have to do is manage to run 26.2 miles without falling over, and make a fortune on my justgiving page for Heart Research UK.

Just finished 1.5 (I know, it’s not very far) excruciatingly slow, painful, leaden-legged miles on the treadmill. Even watching Strictly didn’t make it any better. I hope it’s two steps forward, one step back and that tomorrow will be better. It can’t get much worse. Sigh. This marathon business is such a huge commitment, in terms of time and effort; I know it’s worth it and it’s for a good cause, but there are days when I just think I’m insane. I guess that’s normal, isn’t it?  I’m off to cheer myself up with a cup of tea and some chocolate.