Brain training

At school I was desperate to be cool. And I succeeded, I suppose, if being cool means getting told off every single day for wearing too much make up, kissing boys and being hated by the girls in the year above... But I was also desperate to be clever, to be THE cleverest and coolest person, and also be really good at sports too. OH and have loads of money so that I could buy the best clothes from Jane Norman and wear my chavviest H.Samuels earrings with pride. So basically, I was a bit of a try-hard.

I don't know what it was like in every other school, but running was NOT cool in my school. We used to wear bottle-green uniform in my school, so you can imagine how uncool it was already... Our annual cross-country was just an amazing excuse to have an afternoon off, jog round with the girls and put muddy hand prints on each other tits (and I'm still suffering from severe FOMO flashbacks), but for some reason, that ONE day of the school sporting calendar, I allowed myself to become uncool. I would win that race, and I would run the fastest I could possibly run, even if it ruined my pink eyeshadow/blue mascara combo or made me a bit sweaty. I didn't even think about it either - racing my hardest wasn't something I thought about really, I just did it.

Running is quite a personal thing, I think. I've read articles that claim running performances are down to just 20% physical ability - with the other 80% made up of mental strength. I don't know how accurate this is REALLY, I mean I don't reckon I could beat Mo Farah even if I thought about it loads and loads, but there's definitely some truth to it.

When I first started running again after university, I was 'training' (a term used very loosely here) to lose weight, get a bit fitter and for the genuine love of the sport. When my fitness picked up, I started doing parkruns or local 5km races and (this is no word of a lie) I would get a new PB EVERY SINGLE TIME. By like, 20 seconds or more, sometimes only a week later than my previous 5km. Like most people, I tend to enjoy the things that I think I can excel at - hence why, when I wasn't very good at science in school, I just stopped going...

When I was getting faster with every single run I was doing, I was on a 10000000% runners high. Much better than weed, a runners high is the adrenaline that rushes around your body after a run or race. Endorphines, or something? (Remember: not good at science). This left me with a huge confidence boost, LOADS of belief in myself and meant I was bounding off to training at every opportunity, eating properly and making sure I had enough rest. I was doing really well at something I enjoyed, and was getting faster every time I ran...

And then I stopped.

It all started with the Bristol 10km last year. I was training really well, my abs were looking SLICK and I had very high hopes of getting under 43 minutes. I didn't really have any doubt in my head, apart from the fact I was going to a festival the week before, but I thought I would be able to power through and ignore the inevitable horrendous hangover. WELL - anyone who has me as a friend on Facebook probably doesn't need to be reminding of the infamous Love Saves The Day photos. I 'went in', as the ravers say.

I had an absolutely amazing weekend and regret NOTHING (apart from spending £13 on the world's most minging mojito - Natalie Mott you know what I mean hahah), but it did leave me a rather broken woman for the next week. I was still on a daily vom ting up until the day of the Bristol 10km, and probably shouldn't have ran. Imagine your morning shower before a race being interrupted by a projectile chunder over your naked body. MMMMM. Anyway, the race was a shambles, I ran just over 45 minutes and was SOOOOOOOOOOOO hard on myself. Dave had to hold my hand and pull me along for the last 400m to make sure I actually finished.

I couldn't really forget how disappointed I was in myself, and started picking faults in basically my entire life. I managed to (and still battle with this daily) convince myself that I was overweight and my extra flab had stopped me from running a few minutes quicker (I am 8 stone, so I know that my thoughts were absolutely ridiculous). My next race went just as badly - I was on to run 20.40 for a 5km when I thought I had period leaked. Firstly, OMG PERIODS GROSS. Secondly, how bloody annoying (literally) to stop to check your flap area and be overtaken by women double your age who you should 100% be in front of. Again, I was super hard on myself and decided to give up on the summer season, instead concentrating on cross country.

AND EVEN THAT WAS SHIT. My beloved cross country; the very races that had got me into the sport in the first place had started to let me down. I had a few shocking races - one that can be blamed on a hangover - but the rest were just awful. I felt like I was training more (and trying harder) than ever but just not seeing any results. I cannot tell you how hard it is to dedicate a large portion of your life to something and then have people assume you aren't putting in any effort because you are 20 people further down the field than you should have been.

This is where my brain came in...

For the lucky ones amongst you who have seen me up close and in the flesh, you'll know that I'm built like a small male rugby player. My legs earned me the lovely nickname of 'tree trunks' by some PARTICULARLY friendly girls in the year above (see, I said I was cool) and swimming competitively from the age of 10 has give me a set of shoulders that can only be described as 'very broad'. I'm pretty strong for my size and I am occasionally both amazed and grateful for the things my body lets me do. SO, I knew it wasn't my physical fitness that was letting the side down, it was (and still is) my brain.

***STRONG NEARLY-NAKED PHOTO WARNING*** (abs are all about the lighting and nothing to do with the gym)

Every single time I was running I would tell myself that I couldn't, even though the year before I was flying round the track like a distant relative of Usain Bolt. I would look at my strong thighs while I was running, and resent them for being double the size of my faster team mates. I told myself that I was weak, everyone else was far superior to me and I couldn't even count the times that I've text my training partner Lucy (BRISTOL MISSES YOU LUCY) and told her that I was quitting. Being the angelic woman that she is, she would usually reply and tell me to stop being a twat - which is what I needed, really. It's a really strange feeling that's so hard to explain to my friends, who mainly think my running exploits are wonderful, but they listened to my moans anyway and told me I was still great (thanks guys, LOVE YOU SO MUCH). It got to the point where I was basing my own self-worth on how fast I could run around a field and everyone was thinking the same thing: 'come on Emma, don't be a bellend'.

Thanks to coach Dave, who has put up with my shit for nearly 10 years now, he has gradually got it back into my head that I CAN do it. I genuinely am stronger and fitter now than I've ever been, despite my best efforts to drink alllllll the gin and steal fags off of people on nights out, so there is literally no reason why I shouldn't be able to run as fast as other people think I can. I am very inspired by my mother, who claims that she was never spectacularly fast in her youth, and is now reaping the rewards of sticking at something that she loves, and has somehow ended up as a member of the England team. You go girl.

I haven't ran a 5km PB since January 2015 (apart from when I ran 20.20 in the first 5km of a 10km in March 2015, but that's not official), but on a good brain day I believe that in the next two years I can run around 19 minutes. My recent races have been really good - I've finished feeling genuinely happy and actually ENJOYED it. And, as I've possibly said a million times before, running is an absolutely brutal hobby to take up, so if you don't enjoy it, what's the bloody point?!

So yes, although I am a very fit woman (hahaha, sorry but technically it's true), my brain has been through the shitter as well and is probably the hardest part of my body that I've ever had to train. I've gone from wanting to be the coolest, cleverest and best gal going, to realising that you don't have to be the best at EVERYTHING. As long as it makes you a very happy woman, then that's a resounding success in itself.

#deep

Advice to the unnatural runner

DISCLAIMER: I am not trying to offer official advice/tell anyone what to do.

When I was in school I was pretty fit (no not in THAT way, although my slapped-back ponytail might want to disagree). I ran, swam , played netball and ONCE played hockey for the school, and until I was 16 I was quite good at sports and all that jazz. Around the same time, I was also getting quite good at drinking vodka in parks and sharing half a fag with Faye behind the girls gym - so it's fair to say that my fitness was dwindling. I then spent 3 years at uni, abusing my body in ways that won't (and shouldn't) be discussed on the internet, and by the time I graduated I struggled to run for 10 minutes without stopping.

So although yes, I have a history of running, I spent a fair few years destroying any type of talent and fitness I once had. Luckily I've managed to pull it all back (and then some? Maaaaybe?) and my very own riches-to-rags-to-riches fitness journey has taught me a few things along the way. I'd like to pass on some tips to anyone who, like me, wants to try dragging their ass around the streets/on the dreadmill but doesn't know where to start. Oooohhhh I feel like Jacky Chan in that kung fu film.

Anyway, for anyone who fancies lacing up their trainers, ruining their feet or getting very well-acquainted with a sports bra, here are my words of wisdom...

1. Get good shit
Before you can even THINK about going for a run, you need to feel like a true athlete. I've read SO many articles that say "you should RUN! Running is FREE! All you need is an old pair of trainers." NO NO NO. Get semi decent trainers, for god sake. This doesn't need to be expensive: Go into a posh running, ask them to find you your perfect trainers. Once perfect trainers are found, thank them and LEAVE THE SHOP. Remember those perfect trainers. Head straight home to GOOGLE THE SHIT OUT OF THEM. If you can't find many bargains, add 'similar to' to your search term. Sports Shoes, Sports Direct and Zalando are great websites. Also, treat yourself to one new item of running clothing. You will look and therefore feel fabulous when wearing your new purchase, and if you go for a run once then you can at least wear it to Tesco and call it 'athleisure'. It's fashion, darling. If your item of choice is a sports bra, remember that its sole aim is to flatten your boobs to an almost concave state - the sheer fact that you've paid for a pair of flat titties should be motivation enough. H&M, Matalan and TK Maxx are your new friends.

2. DO IT FOR YOURSELVES MY DARLINGS
Everyone knows I bum running because it helped me lose a stone of uni/cheesy chips weight, but there are so many other (and better) reasons for wanting to go for a run. When I first started running again I kept my own, personal reason in my head and it helped to motivate me to keep trying. Some people like to run to de-stress after a busy working day, others need it to distract from other habits, some use running to wake themselves up in the morning while others may be on a mission to complete a 3/5/10km or maybe even a disgustingly long half marathon. But don't run to please other people - running is mainly horrendous and people who need to be pleased are annoying. DO IT FOR YOU. It makes life better.

3. Plan it
Running is one of those shitty things that is SO easy not to do. For this 'going for a run' thing to work,
it needs to be planned with military precision. If you get home from work and your shiny new athletic attire isn't within reaching distance, that run is just nottttt going to happen. I have a few suggestions:

• Tell everyone that you know that you plan on going for a run. Ask them to mock you if you do not bother
• Write it on the calendar/in a diary. When you do your run, you can tick it off. Ticking is so satisfying.
• Have your kit out ready, preferably with a note on it that says I AM GOING FOR A RUN.
• Choose an out-and-back route in as straight a line as possible. This way you can't 'worry about getting lost' and find yourself in bed at 7pm instead.
• Make sure you have adequate snacks ready for your return.
• Once your run is completed, eat aforementioned snacks and contact all friends and family to let them know that you're now an athlete.

4. Fuck the haters

Trust me when I say there is nothing more terrifying than the thought of being seen RUNNING by someone you went to school with. Oh god, the sheer horror of someone potentially recognising you through all that sweat and the steam that is rising from your body and HOW RIDICULOUS that you're trying to get fit and wow what a disgusting human being you've become. I have been in this position and the truth is that no one gives a shit. Really. Most people I've seen while I was out running have either: A. smiled and/or waved OR: B. said hi and carried on their day. Nope, no following group of villagers carrying pitchforks, no eggs being thrown from passing cars and no crazed laughter from a trio of witches. I was once called a fat slag while I was running, but that's a different story... Basically I know it's really hard to get over the thought that you should look your best at all times, but no one really cares about your exercise/sex face. They probably think 'oh fair play, maybe I'll go for a run soon' and then go back to their phones to carry out an extensive stalk of all your social media outlets.

5. Take it sloooow

I chase times constantly. How fast you can run a 5km is worn as a badge of honour in running circles but if you're new to running then IGNORE ALL BADGES OF HONOUR. Not only is there more to life than a bloody 5km PB, but it is also harder to try and think about speed when your main aim is to reach the end of the road without walking. It took me months and months to get any sort of speed back in my legs - I wanted to be able to run for 30 minutes without walking and THEN I started to think about how far I was actually going. If you need to walk for 10 seconds of every minute that you run then DO IT - just increase how many minutes you're out for with each run. After a few months you'll get to know your body and pain threshold and can start adding in an extra 5/10 minutes. Speed will come without you even noticing.

 

6. Remember the after, not the during

I am the first to admit that I find running bloody hard. Like, every step I take feels unnatural and I am in pain the entire time. 'BUT WHY', I hear you cry, 'DO YOU RUN SO MUCH?'. Well my friends, the reason I keep going back for some sweet run loving, is for the feeling I get afterwards. I feel more calm, my head is clearer, my body feels tighter (oioiiiii) and I feel like I've achieved something. If I could find that feeling in a bag of Dairy Milk buttons then trust me, I'd be living in one, but alas this is where I can all those happy feeeeeelz. The first few (and maybe all) runs will be HARD - but I bet you a fiver that you'll arrive back home in a better mood. Try and remember that good mood when you try to tell yourself that running is the devil and Eastenders is a much better option. Is Ian Beale still a tramp?

7. Feeeeeeel the music

My running life has been greatly enhanced by the genius that is Kanye West. His album 'My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy' houses all of my favourite running tracks, and when one comes on I feel like I'm about to undertake Mo Farah and slap his bold little pinhead at the same time. What a dreamy feeling. FIND YOUR KANYE. Whether you love Elton's 'Rocket Man' or the angelic tones of Bullet For My Valentine, the music you listen to on a run will help so much. You might not even notice it as you try not to collapse while wearing such a terribly uncool pair of trainers, but on the odd occasion that you CAN hear it, your favourite songs can be very comforting. Also, it beats hearing yourself sharting at mile 2.

8. JUST RUN.

The truest thing I've ever heard is that 'the hardest part is getting out the door'. IT IS SO TRUE. JUST RUN.

P.S. If you're out the door and still finding it reaaaaally fucking hard, then just CONCENTRATE ON REACHING THE NEXT LAMPPOST. Lampposts are your friends, like check-points on Crash Bandicoot. GOOD LUCK!!!

A week in the life of an above average* runner

I know what you're all thinking. ‘Above average? What a cocky twat' (because God FORBID anyone says anything positive about themselves these days) – but technically, I am. My Parkrun age grading is 69-70%, meaning there are only 31-30% of women in my age group who have ran faster than me at one of the many Saturday morning 5kms.

Anyway, now we’ve cleared that up… I thought it might be interesting to document my training over an average week (barrel of laughs, me). I'm a bit worried that I might come off as A. boring, or B. ridiculously slow for the amount I do, but there we go.

MY WEEK

Monday:
I read this thing once that to be a #fitspo (fitspiration – fitness inspiration) you should ‘never miss a Monday’. My alarm goes off at 6am so I can be ready to leave home at around 7.15. I drive to the athletics track in Whitehall then walk around 5km (maybe a bit less) to work. I go to the gym Monday lunchtime and fanny around trying to get me a set of cheese grater abs (planks, sit ups, leg raises, toe touches etc) and get back to work for 1.45ish. At 5pm I leave work, go back to the gym to get changed then walk back to the track. Monday’s are intervals so we usually go on the field and do a session of around ten 2, 3 or 4min efforts with 60/90 seconds rest in between. THIS IS BLOODY HARD. Running on grass is horrific. I get home between 8-8.30pm and eat my tea (thanks Ben) before getting into bed and watching the OJ Simpson thing on BBC2 (OJ is such a bellend, AM I RIGHT?).

Tuesday:
Ben drops me halfway to work on a Tuesday, so yaaaay my alarm doesn't go off until 6.30. I walk around 4km to work from my drop off point and feel SUPER cool in my walking-to-work trainers and professional office woman work attire. I go to circuits at the gym at 12.30 for 45 minutes. It says circuits but it's more like bodypump? Lots of squats and stuff with a big bar (I only have 10kg on mine because I'm a dainty lady) and I always get a proper sweat on. Big bum muscles are essential, you know. Shower then back to work until HOMETIIIIME. On Tuesday's I usually run the long way home, which is about 6 miles depending on my route. Luckily I have a really cool running rucksack to carry my belongings so I get allllll the wolf whistles as I trundle home. I always have a jacket potato on a Tuesday because I am extremely anal about food hahahah ***nervous laughter***. That's me done for the day.

Wednesday:
I usually set my alarm for 5.43am (lol, anal) on a Weds and get a 35 minute run in before work. It means I can be home before 6.45 and shower as usual. Another halfway to work drop off so around 4km walk. I always take my gym kit with me ‘just in case’ but usually am too tired to go on my lunch. I walk another 4km to meet Ben for a lift home. Wednesday is the only night we are both free so DATE NIGHT. No one needs to go what goes on on a Wednesday evening… lol.

Thursday:
Thursday is TRACK NIGHT so it's  6am alarm and drive to the track. Walk 5km to work (yawn, you get it, I know…) and SOMETIMES go to the gym for a core workout on my lunch break. I say sometimes because I'm not really supposed to do this and I know Mum, Sarah, Charlotte and Dave will all roll their eyes at me. After work I walk back to the track and do around 6 laps warm up. Our session is usually something like 4x600, 4x400, 4x200m and without fail I ALWAYS find something to moan about. My coach Dave has the patience of a saint. I usually get home about 8.30pm and Ben (glorious man that he is) mostly waits for me to get home so we can cook and eat together.

Friday:
I get dropped halfway to work on a Friday so have a laaaavly morning walk. I am such a walking wanker these days, but it saves me loads of money on bus fare and I am peasant poor so fuck you all. I usually go the gym on my lunch and do a HIIT workout (star jumps, squat jumps, mountain climbers, burpees etc). After work I either run home, or get the bus (once a week is fine haha…) and then attend whatever amazing social event I've been invited to that night. #friends

Saturday:
PARKRUN, possibly. My wonderful friends Simone and Connie have caught the parkrun bug (Issy – I wasn’t sure if you loved it really…) and its encouraged me to start going again. For anyone who doesn't know what Parkrun is, read about it HERE. I've ran with both of them while they got PBs and sometimes it's so much nicer to help someone else rather than being selfish and trying to bomb it round for your own PB. I usually go home and do some core stuff in front of the TV while Ben watches Soccer AM, so that's not annoying at all for him. Poor bloke.

Sunday:
EITHER: extremely hungover, so not moving unless for a plate of nachos and a tub of Hagem Daaz salted caramel ice cream. OR: long run through Snuff Mills (amazing woods by my house), usually 45-50 minutes. Home in time for Sunday Brunch and mega sloth aaaaalllllll day.

SO THAT’S ME. Wow that is a lot for someone who has only just got under 21 mins for their 5km. It's also a lot of organising – I am never without my gym kit (in case the moment arises that I can drop down and do 75 burpees) and to be honest it's probably a bit OTT but it makes me happy and keeps me sane. I also have the unfaltering patience of my roomie and loverboy, who is probably sick to death of seeing me in full lycra, bun head in tow.

Also I love fudge so need to balance out my clotted-cream booty. Clotted-cream ass, now that's an image to leave you with…