#runningproblems

The more I run, the more I notice that this wonderful activity also comes with a few problems. I can imagine that proper professional runners have a whole different set of problems, such as being made to wee for the drugs people at the drop of a hat or which pair of trainers to wear that day, but these are real-life problems experienced by the average amateur runner, aka moi...

1. Having to wash your hair EVERY SINGLE BLOODY DAY
This was a problem highlighted by Hen at training the other day - going for a run in the evening is all well and good but then you can't exactly turn up for work the next morning rocking a greasy ponytail and hope you don't get sacked. My hair is super dry, super bleached and actually quite grim on a good day, so washing it pretty much every day means I resemble a scarecrow half the time. Also it means I have to get up 10 minutes earlier in the morning, totally nottttttt cool.

Double whammy of running problems...

2. The dreaded strawberry face
When I run, I go veryyyyyy red in the face. If I run 30 seconds up the road I'd probably be a salmony pink colour. Sometimes, I go red in work when I walk to the water cooler - haha sorry, too far. Going for a 'quick run' before going out to meet people can be tricky when you are faced with the 'crimson cheek' and shiny forehead - especially irritating that the pinkness stays for at least an hour afterwards, the photo above was taken 36 hours after I raced. Make-up is essential when race photographers are about!

3. People asking why you run
BECAUSE I WANT TO!!!!! Some people choose to play chess, others like video games and a select few enjoy chasing a huge roll of cheese down a hill, but I spend some of my time running. Just because a large majority of people think its boring/hard/weird, doesn't mean I'm to be viewed with suspicion - it's not a cult, it's just a running club. It also means I can eat this family sized bag of 'mini matchmakers' (right now - so good) and not feel too guilty about it, so there.

THIS IS WHY

4. Camel toe
WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT. Hahahah, not really. I think my dad was scarred for life after reading my cycling post. All I shall say is: lycra is sometimes unforgiving and it can really put a girl off her stride if she is constantly worrying about what she looks like down south.......

5. Being told running is bad for your knees
I kid you not, once someone actually said to me "don't you run a lot? Did you know that running is literally the worse thing you can do". Right, THE WORST THING I CAN DO? I can think of a few things off the top of my head that are worse than running - selling drugs to children, picking your toenails and forgetting your mum's birthday just to name a few. Yes, running is hard on the old knees but so is being fat and carrying 45 stone of weight around all day. So swings and roundabouts, really. 

6. Having a favourite sports bra
Not that I do that clothes washing in my house - shoutout to my momma - but if you get attached to one sports bra, it can be so frustrating having to wait for it to go through the wash (hahaha, I'm going to get so much shit from my mum after this). I'm currently quite clingy to my Nike sports bra; I've got some good Shock Absorber ones but they just aren't as cool and I'm starting to resent having to wear them when my favourite one isn't available... Oh god I'm actually moaning about a sports bra. Such a hard life. 

7. Being a drunken mess
At a mere 5ft 1 and a half, I was never built to be a big-time drinker - but everyone loves a trier. During uni I was pretty much guaranteed to be a mess at least once a week, whether that be being sick by 11pm, having to go home early or being found in the toilet by the manager of a club because I'd fallen asleep with the door locked....... So you get the point, I'm a bit of a lightweight. But since I've started running more, I've gotten even worse - maybe it's because I'm nearly always dehydrated? One Smirnoff Ice down and I start to feel tipsy, and the other day I actually felt a bit drunk after having a LIME AND SODA, no alcohol. Maybe I just have booze running through my veins.

Napping on a night out, life and soul of the party

8. Non-running people thinking you are better than you are
LOL, this isn't really a problem but it does make me feel like a bit of a fraud. My wonderful friends have so patiently listened to me talk about running, training plans and racing over the years, and to be honest I've probably made out I'm a bit of a speed machine. Alas, my running lingo can be very deceiving and most of my friends could probably give me a run (OH, a pun) for my money if they did a few weeks of training. Although, when all the girls came to cheer me on at the Bristol Half Marathon I did feel like a maaaaassive superhero, so maybe they don't even care how fast I am, they just want to slap my bum in lycra, absolute babes. 

Waving to the fans, such a hero

Well, well, well...

A week of no running... I survived! And although I've told anyone who would listen that I've 'put on half a stone', I'm not actually sure how accurate that is and probably haven't changed too much (although I saw a photo of myself earlier and nearly vommed, maybe I'll share it later...). Also after chatting to Alison, who's had 9 months off running with a bad knee, I realised I was being a 'tad' dramatic...

I was quite happy to see the back of the bike and get back to slapping my feet one in-front of the other. The nurse who took my stitches out told me to wait until after the weekend to run, so obviously I went straight to the track on the Thursday night. Rebel without a cause.......... Not much to report except I was the ONLY one at the track so felt like one of those properrrrr good athletes that get their own coaches. Alas, I was still plodding but kept insisting to Dave that I'd been "injured". He wasn't having any of it and told me to get on with it. No diva behaviour on Dave's (bleeping) watch.

Despite not running for a while, and having a weekend of football and alcohol (LAAAAAD) planned, I decided to enter a 5k race on the Tuesday evening. According to mum it was 'run by the buddhas' - very un-politically correct there mother! It was part of the Sri Chinmoy series; he's a world-famous Indian spiritualist, NOT a buddha. But for some reason he was holding a race in Eastville Park in Bristol so thanks for the opportunity, Sri!!! (sorry, Sri, genuinely thanks, you sound lovely). 

I think we can all agree how lovely Sri looks

After surviving one of the top 5 hangovers of my entire drinking career on Sunday, I wasn't feeling too spritely come Tuesday. But I was determined to at least show my face and get my ever-present thighs round the three-lap course. Mum and Sarah were racing in Filton, Dad was playing cricket and my appointed bag-holder (Simone) was stuck in traffic. As you can imagine, this total lack of support (only joking) left me feeling extremely zen and not at all worried about who would look after my car keys. Luckily, everyone accommodates my needs so Mum and Sarah dropped me at Eastville, both looking quite emotional at the thought of abandoning me at a race and without the usual bellowing that keeps me going on the final stretch...

Thankfully there were a lot of friendly faces also racing that night so I tagged along, and the lovely Nicola looked after my car keys, leaving me completely freeeeee to attempt any sort of PB. Or at least get some good material for this blog... Hmmm, priorities. 

Me and my 'support team'

The race was quite straight-forward, just three laps round the park with an added 200m finish to make up the 5km. As always, my big head got too excited at the start and after about 3 minutes I was resenting the day I'd ever started running. There was a slight downhill on one side of the park, which was vaaaanderful. Well, it was alright when you compare it to the 'slight uphill' on the other side. I am telling you now, this uphill was not slight. It was one of those hills that you don't even need to change gear in when you're driving, but OH OH OH when you have to run up it, the old hamstrings are telling a different story. 

Bristol and West out in force - well done everyone!!!

Anyway after the dramatics of the first lap, the 'fast group' that I'd attempted to tag along with had well and truly pulled away. I wasn't really sure what was going on behind me but I couldn't hear anyone breathing, so assumed I was on my own. Poor, baby Emma. Abandoned by her parents and peers and then abandoned by all other runners mid-race. OOOHHH it was me against the watch. I felt like I was in a documentary; me against the world. I ran with a Bristol and West male runner for the last lap and a half (he must've caught up with me, my stumpy legs were literally running out of steam) and I managed to cling onto him for a while. *All of my non-running friends, I wasn't actually clinging onto his back, that's strictly for nights out - it's just a running term innittttt.

Desperately trying to be a 'fast one'

The marshalls at Eastville 5k were so encouraging, with one of them even shouting at me to 'hang on in there!' - thanks, I think. Chief photographer Andy was also running all over the place, somehow able to concentrate on his camera and also getting everyone's names correct when he cheered them on! The last hill was a real killer, and I even walked because I'm a massive wimp. It was only for 5 seconds though and then I called myself a 'twat' and ran my little/big bum off for the last 400 metres. I was definitely gaining on two men at the end (haha, sorry but it's true) and finished in 23.35. Not a PB, but considering I'd done the first lap in 8.20 I was pretty pleased that I managed to pick it up.

Funny how happy this made me, really...

OH AND ALSO... the top 7 finishers from each gender group (male and female - not sure why I felt I had to explain that) got medals. It's a random number but hey, if Sri wants the top seven ladies to be rewarded then that's what Sri gets. Somehow I managed to sneak into the medal crew and was seventh!!! The six other ladies were way ahead and far superior to me (Tracy, I'm looking at you!) but I was pleased nonetheless. First ever running medal that isn't from a charity race. A very sad but very true statistic and I wore my medal all the way home. 

YAYYY (mirrored things are hard to take photos of)

As a final point, I'd just like to note that races like this are really good because its not mega-serious and everyone is well friendly. More often than not, you end up running with the same people the whole way round and it's always nice to have a little joke with your new running buddy at the end, even if its to say 'HA, JUST GOT YOU AT THE LINE'. No hugging, obviously due to sweat reasons, but nothing wrong with a little high-five to celebrate our legs functioning properly. YAY RUNNING.

Oh... As a final, final point... I'd like to draw everyone's attention to this photo, mainly so everyone can laugh WITH me and not AT me...

Lets discuss...

Firstly, okay so I'm looking pretty knackered - as I should be - but what the HELL is that thigh?! I'm not blowing my own trumpet here but they usually don't wobble in such a dramatic fashion, and I think this is bad timing from my skin. We'll call it 'relaxed muscle movement', or something.
Secondly, my shrinking boobs have never really bothered me but WHAT it just looks like I have a thinning sausage attached to my chest. Very disappointed with my sports bra, I'm sure it promises a 'supportive yet stylish' look. Ain't nothin' stylist 'bout a sausage chest.
Thirdly my posture is terrible and I knew that already.
Fourthly (?) my hair looks ridiculous but WOOOO I must've been swishing it around like an absolute diva. So lets focus on that. 


Thanks again to Andy Butterfly for all the photos in this post - except the dodgy medal ones. Excellent job, and I hope my weird thigh didn't offend your lens!  

Swapping feet for wheels

Last Wednesday I had an operation on my collarbone - I wish it was more dramatic than it actually was, just for the story-telling purposes, but it was all very boring and I've ended up with a few stitches. While I was there I said I ran a lot (god I am so predictable) and the nurse was ADAMANT that I shouldn't be running for at least a week. Cue an absolute look of horror from me - ever the keen sportswoman - especially when the nurse said "if you go running, your stitches will split and it'll be irreparable, your wound will be GAPING OPEN". Now I don't know what other people think of when they hear the word gaping, but I was imagining an extra 'lady area' hanging off my collarbone. 

WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENT

So, reluctantly, I've taken her advice and am having a run-free week. Bit annoying as I'd planned to do a 10k race and seemed to be running well, but THERE WE GO. Luckily one of my best friends Simone came to the rescue, and lent me her bike so that I don't become a fatty and/or find myself crawling up the walls with evening boredom. What a babe, I am eternally grateful.

The Simone-Wagon

I've just got back from my second bike ride this week and you know that extra lady area I was worried about? Well that was the least of my worries, apparently the one lady area that I have to deal with just isn't enjoying the bike as much as the rest of me. Think 'swollen'. ANYWAY, now we've got that out of the way...

The great thing about cycling is that you move so much quicker than when you're pounding the streets and ruining your ankle joints. I cycled 14 miles tonight in 1 hour - if I ran that fast I'd be setting some of short-woman world record. I also wasn't as disgustingly sweaty and out of breath, which was a nice change to my evening schedule. I don't know if I was just going quite slowly but an hour of cycling seemed to be a lottttt easier than an hour of running - maybe I wasn't working hard enough OR MAYBE I'M A BORN CYCLIST?! My lady parts are hoping not...

However I've also discovered that cyclists just aren't as happy as runners. I mean, yes maybe they all have sore genitals and are fed up of having thigh rash but there's no need to give such scathing looks to the clear amateur cyclist. After picking two flies out of my left eye on my first trip on the bike, I half-considered wearing my sunglasses... But I decided against it - I didn't think the middle-aged men in their shop-bought Great Britain jerseys would appreciate my fake Raybans, bleach blonde ponytail and little shorts, looking like I was starring in the opening credits of The O.C. I whacked on my lycra and shoved my hair up in an attempt to look semi-professional, but still got dirty looks and tutted at as they overtook me, obviously sticking to their 'formation' as if they're competing in a stage of the Tour de France. YES I KNOW WHAT THAT IS, I WORK FOR A TRIATHLON MAGAZINE. What I like about running is the cute little waves, nods and smiles that you get from fellow road runners, no matter how fast or slow they are going. It's just nice to be encouraging to the whole world, preach sisterrrrrrrr.

Not enjoying life, and with added bucktooth

I found it quite scary trying to control the bike, and myself, and keep the flies out of my mouth. Running is completely different; if I want to stop I can just do it myself, but having an extra component to think about made it a bit of a nervous wreck. Riding along the main road was well scary, mainly because I didn't have a helmet (probably why I was getting such dirty looks, not wearing a helmet must be akin to not having your headlights turned on) but once I got onto the cycle path, remembered that I was super-sassy and am not scared of 45-year old overweight men, I got quite into the swing of things. I nearly did run over two squirrels though, and I saw a rat. OH and Mr Billsberry, who was a wiiiicked art teacher at my school. 

The other thing I was a bit worried about was getting thighs like Chris Hoy's. Incidentally, his thigh circumference is the same as my waist so that would look absolutely ridiculous and also COME ON EMMA you've been for two bike rides just chill out. 

I have quite enjoyed my time off (I may have spent £110 on whiskey at the weekend, whatever) however I'm excited to get back running ASAP. Also, hunching over a bike just cannottttt be good for my posture, and also walking like you've soiled yourself just ain't a good look. 

Really ladylike and classy tweet...

7 minutes: my obsession continues

*After writing this I realised I sound like I fancy myself as a bit of a 'fitness twat'. I don't, I'm just bored and this is more fun than watching The One Show

Life is bloody busy at the moment. Between work, friends, boyfriend and general 'antics' (oh god, shoot me), sometimes I don't have time to go out for as long a run as I'd like to. To quote my wonderful mother, "sometimes life just gets in the way".

It's well known among my friends that I tend to keep a close eye on my weight, in fact some have called it an 'obsession' but whatever, I'm sure it was meant in a loving way. I just like to exercise, ya knowwwww? This 'life' thing that keeps happening often has a way of creeping up on me and taking away my 'maintaing lost weight' time. Luckily I have found a quick-fix to keep my naturally larger stomach at bay, and it's COMPLETELY FREE. And who doesn't love a freebie? 

The 'instructor' is reaaaally annoying

The 7-minute workout app has honestly been an absolute godsend, and has found itself in a very firm spot within my daily routine. It does what it says on the tin; a 7-minute (7 minutes and 50 seconds to be precise), full-body workout that doesn't require any extra equipment and definitely builds up a super-sweat (mmmmm). It consists of 30 seconds of exercise followed by 10 seconds of rest, in this order...

Star jumps

Wall sit

Press-ups

Crunches

Step-ups

Squats

Tricep dips

High knees running in place

Plank

Lunges

Press-ups with rotation

Side plank

Jumping jacks? STAR JUMPS YOU MEAN

Now I'm actually seeing this written down, I feel like a bit of a bionic woman but the 30 second bursts of exercise goes quite quickly, still gives me that smug gym feeling and makes me feel as if I definitely belong on the cover of Women's Health (OHHH, that was a joke to anyone who doesn't know me/understand humour). I've tried joining gyms loads of times but always end up running on the shitty treadmill (it works for some people but whateverrrrr, it bores me to death and ruins ankles AND LIVES), and the thought all this leaping around doing squats and lunges in public makes me want to crawl into a ball and cringe into my stomach. Instead I usually do it in my bedroom and scare my cat when I nearly fall through the floorboards, but hey - you can't put a price on an ass of steel. 

It's me! Haha, just pulling your leg - it's Cat Deeley

It's no secret that serious runners are usually extremely toned - to the point of looking wellllllll skinny (I'm talking about myself here, can you tell?... I AM NOT REALLY) but as I am not a fully serious runner, I'd much rather have a toned but powerful bod. That's kind of a lie - basically I just want some abs so I can join thousands of other annoying girls wearing crop tops at Glastonbury, IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK? I've ran a lot over the years, and found that a combination of long runs, speed work AND the kind of exercises on the 7-minute app seem to work for me. I also think bootcamps/circuits are really good, but I don't have the dollar or the time. Mo money, mo problems and all that. I don't like the muscle lady look, nor do I have the build to ever be skinny (as an ex-boyfriend once kindly pointed out, yeah thanks hun). I've lost 3/4 of a stone since Christmas - special mention must go to the sickness bug I caught that helped me lose the last few lbs - and I actually think this app has helped. And also because I haven't been gorging on mince pies, twiglets and wine at every opportunity. 

Excellenttttt

I am yet to stick to my 'get up 7 minutes earlier and do your app' thingggg that always sounds so much easier in my head, but I do try to do it everyday after work, except if I've done a run that's longer than 5 miles....... 5 miles is long and tiring so I allow myself a rest and usually an orange and passionfruit Solero. 

The only annoying thing about this wonder app is that it likes to message you to say 'OOHHH YOU HAVEN'T WORKED OUT TODAY'. But sometimes even I really don't give a shit about losing weight and would rather go out, drink wine and eat kebabs. SO THERE.

6 bottles of wine on the left, a box of wine on the right. How was I supposed to choose?!?

A little help at the Parkrun

I should've woken up this Saturday morning at around 11am in a hazy stupor, still in the night before's make up, hugging a half-eaten kebab. Instead, my alarm was set for 7.15 and I hopped out of bed, whacked my hair in a pony-tail and prepared myself for the Ashton Court Parkrun.
For those of you not 'in the know', Parkrun is a worldwide, timed 5km run that happens every Saturday morning at 9am on the dot. It's completely free, completely novice-friendly and is apparently 'not competitive'... we shall see about that! The runs are held in various parks, woodlands and playing fields with varying difficulties, and are all about getting a good time for yourself and (hopefully!) shaving off a few seconds every now and again (parkrun.org.uk for anyone interested).

Now I like to think of myself as a distinguished runner, however to be up and about at 9am on a Saturday morning is no mean feat, meaning I've only ever made it 4 times before this week's ambitious outing. My park of choice was Ashton Court - one I have ran at 3 times before (the other time at Pomphrey), and is notorious for it's 2.5km hill. So yeah, maybe not the kindest 'friendly run' that you're looking for on a weekend morning, but beggars can't be choosers and all that. Begging for a run, what have I become?!

Being the massive PB-chaser (aka glory-hunter) that I am, I checked out my previous 3 times and found my fastest was set last year and was 25 minutes 43 seconds. 'PFFFFFT' I thought, I ain't avin' thaaaaat, so enlisted the help of my mum's super-speedy best mate Sarah. She's ran with me at Parkrun before, mainly because she's LIKE a mum to me, but not so much so that I'd tell her to 'piss off', give her the middle finger or give her a stern warning of 'do NOT run with me'; all of these I have done to my own, biological mother (sorry). With a 5km PB of around 19 minutes, but also a massive urge to help slower runners such as myself (hahaha, oh Sarah you will be loving this), I asked her if she'd help to drag me round the course and not let me walk like the wimp that I am. Mum came along to have a run as well, although obviously we were kept well away from each other. No one needs to see a Jolliffe family bust-up at 9.15am on the edge of a hill.

On the way up. Happy as always!

 We had a bit of a dodgy start and got stuck behind a few people but, being as lean and agile as we are, managed to get round them and settled at comfortable pace (? probably not, I was tempted to ask for a go on Sarah's inhaler) on the way up the hill. Now 2.5km definitely doesn't sound like a lot, but while navigating gravel paths, mass groups of people and men running (rather fast) with their toddlers in buggies, it can get quite tiring. Knowing that I can have a rather snappy temper during races (runner's high obviously takes a while to hit), we didn't talk the whole way up - lucky really, as I was 'blowing out of my arse'. At least I think that's the phrase.

All I am seeing in this is my weird, claw arm...

We reached the top of the climb (YAY) and Sarah said 'we're going hoooome'. This made me extremely happy, although I should apologise as I couldn't even muster up a smile - I promise you I was grateful! Going down the hill was slightly more pleasant and we even had some 'running downhill' tactics. Now I don't want to reveal all of Sarah's secrets as she is like totally on her way to becoming world masters champion or something, but BASICALLY leaning forward and not being scared of falling arse-over-tit is a great tactic, and one I will be using again. As we rounded onto the 'finish straight', I saw a photographer and tried to act like I was having a really fun, friendly and sociable time. This clearly wasn't working as I was advised it was 'only one minute of pain left'. I explained to Sarah at the end that her 'one minute' gets her a lot further than my 'one minute', but I kept this to myself and told myself to stop being such a little git. With a final warning of 'run STRAIGHT THROUGH THE LINE', I put in a kick and Sarah let me nip in front of her (thank you, thank you). I even overheard someone say 'wow a sprint finish!' and my head started to swell, only to then realise they were talking about the middle-aged man who was just about to overtake me on the line. Bastard.

WHY IS SARAH SMILING?!?!

I bet, by now, you're all just dying to find out if I managed to get a PB: I very proudly - and very smugly keep announcing - managed to knock 86 seconds off my previous Ashton Court time and finished in 24.17! Not very fast in the grand scheme of 5kms, but with a hellish course like that I am indeed a very pleased lady. I was 18th female overall and 3rd in my age group, although there may have only been three females aged 20-24 stupid enough to be awake at that time! There is no way I would've been able to do it on my own and I still don't understand how people make it up that hill, at speed, without stopping and walking. If it wasn't for my own personal pacer keeping me going, I would've had proper walk and a huge sulk. Sarah obviously didn't get a PB, but did complete her 98th Parkrun, and mum finished about 2 minutes in front of us, telling everyone that the hill 'wasn't as bad as I was expecting', receiving a very frosty look from me (as well as about 50 other people).

Without sounding a bit preachy and like one of those really encouraging people, I do actually think that Parkruns are really good for trying out a 5km, just to see where you are/something to aim for. Everyone is so friendly and supportive, the volunteers are amazing and there is CAKE.

YAAAAYYY, nice email

Me, mum and Sarah celebrated by going for coffee and cake with Charlotte afterwards - which obviously was a great pre-race snack as Charlotte got the British Championship qualifying time for her 3k steeple chase the next day! AHHHH, the runner's high.