The runners' body

Body image is a bit of a big thing these days. Thanks to social media and generally everyone hopping on-board a health kick, it seems like we are all thinking more about how our bodies look (and feel) and in some cases (e.g. me) people can get a teeeeeny bit obsessive. This isn't meant to put myself down at all (because it's genuinely true), but I am the biggest girl in our training group and often one of the biggest runners in races too. Not 'big' in an overweight sense, just built differently. If you spend too much time on the internet then you'd be lead to believe that the ideal body shape for a middle-distance runner is extremely lean, quite often very slim and also a lot taller than my 5ft 1 frame. I wholeheartedly disagree with this idea; it takes all sorts to make the world go round and this is 100% true when it comes to the running world, too. (Not that the very lean and tall people of the world don't make excellent runners - I know bloody loads of them).

I've always been more aware of my body shape than I probably should be - I can remember crying before my year 11 leavers' ball because I thought I was the 'fattest' person in our limo. Obviously I wasn't fat at all and it's not my friends' fault that they are all absolute sorts and I'm a little pussy - in fact I ended up crying during the limo ride because I spilt champagne all over myself, so there's karma for you. My god-given genes genes and a bucketload of bad luck has left me with quite a low metabolism and a tendency to put on weight and if I don't exercise for a few days then I can really see the difference! I genuinely enjoy it though - something that people probably don't believe - but recently I've been looking at myself in a different and more positive light. I've been at this exercise grind ting for a few years now and instead of thinking about my aesthetic 'flaws', have been appreciating what my body has let me do.

The runners' body comes in all shapes and sizes, and this is mine:

Shoulders/Collarbone:

A childhood of competitive swimming has given me a pair of stacked out shoulders and a 'strong' collar bone area. It's one of the parts of my body that tones up really quickly and since I've been going to a few 'body pump' classes I've really noticed the difference. I don't really want to have big shoulders and sticky-out collarbones, but my bestest buddy Natalie Mott used to compliment me on them ALL THE TIME, so at least they are someone's cup of tea. Shoulders are a big deal in the swmming world, and without my massive pair I wouldn't have achieved half the success that I did, which helped me build a base fitness for this running malarky.

I had an operation on my collarbone a couple of years ago and couldn't run for a few weeks (the stitches would've split every time I moved my arm) - and this time taught me that I'm truly determined to be a little fitness freak. Instead of sulking about my stupid stitched-up chest, I borrowed Simone's mum's bike (THANK YOU!) so we could go on rides together and did lots of
one-arm workouts. This meant I wasn't any less fit than before my operation and I still had those (not so) delightful set of huge shoulders. Shake what your momma gave ya.

Boobies:

Bitchez love boobies. When I was in year 8 I suddenly sprouted quite a large pair of breasts. I think I was maybe around a C-cup, and then when I put on my extra chub at uni I went up to a DD. BANGING TITS 'ERE LUV. Being the standard size for a UK woman helped my financial situation greatly while I studying for a journalism degree - I helped test sports bra for Adidas and Shock Absorber, getting paid £50 a time for 10 minutes of running on a treadmill. The downside was that you had a room of strangers staring at your naked boobs bounching up and down, but it got me free bras and meant I could drink more jagerbombs. Kind of like a stripper, but for scientific reasons only so it's fine. Since I've started running again, they've shrank back down to a B (which I MUCH prefer), and my strong chest muscles mean they are quite perky. Nat Mott even voted me 'tits of the week' when we went on holiday to Rhodes, so that's quite something. Me and Nat Mott have a great friendship.

Arms:

My arms are super weak and not much to write home about. I struggle in gym classes every single time we've got to do any sort of bicep/tricep thing (what's the difference between the two, anyway), and when I run I do feel like they are just THERE, rather than actually doing anything. Maybe that's something to work on... I always have to stand like a teapot when I have my photo taken (hands on hips, makes your arms look skinnier) and I can probably manage 5 press ups before I have to collapse on the floor. BUT without arms I wouldn't be able to pick up yummy things like fajitas, newly-discovered BOUNTYS or bananas so they are one million percent vital to my survival.

Stomach:

Ah, the runners' stomach. Sports magazines are crammed full of photos of Amazonian women with their washboard abs and perfect posture. I WANT THIS. In fact, everyone seems to want this. Abs are the gold medal of fitness models but the fact of the matter is that a six-pack is bloody hard to achieve. At running, we call it 'core training', rather than 'ab hunting' - mainly because building a STRONG CORE is a lot more effective than just concentrating on stripping your whole body of fat and making your little abdominal muscles stick out. People who know me will know that I LOVE a naked summer. Come June, I won't be wearing anything other than a bra and a pair of denim shorts, so yesssss a washboard stomach would be ideal, but I've spent an awful lot of time trying and not much has happened so far. Luckily, my quest for abs has left me with a pretty strong core - so even if it's a teeny bit wobbly around the womb area, at least my posture has improved and my core can carry me through some hellish cross country races. Every cloud, and all that. (Stood in the bath to take this photo because good lighting and stuff).

Booty:

2015 was the year of the booty, and I'm very pleased that the sentiment seems to have spilled over into 2016. The Kardashian krew have come along with their unbelievable derrieres and now everyone is getting on the squat hype and building themselves a fantastic set of buns. MARVELLOUS WORK GUYS. A childhood spent in the pool or on the running track has blessed me with a strong gluteus maximus and, as the biggest muscle in the body, helps to carry my legs around when they really have had enough. Me and Alexa are a big believer in 'bum running' - basically getting as big an ass as humanly possible and using it to your advantage. I squat, lunge and donkey kick like nobodies business and am looking forward to growing the booty even more in the next few months. CUTIE WITH A BOOTY

Thighs:

Remember when everyone wanted a thigh gap? God, that was SO 2014. I was leading the 'thigh gap brigade' for a good few months, but now I realise that it was such a waste of my time. If you are born with thighs that don't touch at the top, then that is completely normal and all to do with an excellent set of genes. If, like me, you've got a wobbly bit at the top that makes your thighs touch, then that is also completely normal and ALSO thanks to a set of excellent genes. Look at Jessica Ennis for goodness sake - her thighs definitely sit side-by-side and she is a hell of an athlete. My thick thighs have treated me well over the years, carry me round the running track twice a week and allow me to pull out a slut-drop in any given club on Park Street with absolute ease. Thanks, thighs.

Calves:

'The calves of doom', as Ben so lovingly called them. These fuckers are not to be messed with. I reckon I could trap someone's neck between my lower calves and probably snap it clean in half. They are PUMPED, and where I get my 'rugby player leg' complexion from. I'll be honest, if I'm led down and the muscle is relaxed, I sometimes feel disgusted at the size and wobbliness of them and wish they were just skin and bone. But then I'll see myself running and notice the definition in them, or
put on a pair of heels and realise that they aren't really fat, they are 'shapely'. And again, they are major players when it comes to dance-offs and assist me in clearing the floor with one swift squat.

Feet:

I apologise profusely to anyone who has had the displeasure of coming into contact with my feet at any time in their life. There's no denying it - they are absolutely foul. My toenails were grown from the depths of hell and my heels are so dry that there could well be moss growing in the cracks. BUT without them I would have stumps at the end of my huge calves, and that would just look weird.

So yes, I am learning to appreciate my body a lot more for what it can do, rather than what it looks like. It has carried me through 5 half marathons, 1 10miler, a triathlon, tens of 10km, countless 5kms and a couple of speedy 800ms. Obviously I don't think like this every day - like most women I am highly critical of myself, want to get lipo on my stomach and feel genuine resentment that I will probably have to exercise at this volume for the rest of my life if I want to maintain this shape and size, but at least I no longer stand in the mirror and pull at my skin. Looking at how far I've come in running in the past few years has made me proud to have created such a strong and resilient body, even if I'm never going to be a Victoria's Secret model (or meet Gigi Hadid - I CRY).

Basically, the ideal runners' body is a myth. We've all got one, you just need to get out there and take it for a run. #girlpower