Running

Things that I have worried about whilst running alone and excellent ways in which Ito deal with them.

I bumped into a lady yesterday who was walking her dogs. I gave her a bit of a fright as I appeared from nowhere like a ninja. We had a chat about how lonely it was in the woods. She assured me that it’s a very safe area but she was the one that shit herself…

Whilst it’s very unlikely that anybody would attack me because I’m quite a big unit and I’m loud, I have given it some thought.

I still go out by myself. I’ll quite happily run in the dark or really early in the morning. I’ve no problem at all with running through woodland alone but sometimes my imagination runs riot.

It’s scary out there…

There are so many potential incidents that could occur whilst you run alone.

I’ve thought about all scenarios and can honestly say that I’m ready for anything.

My fears are many and varied. They range from the quite ordinary fear of lone man on the canal without a dog (who’s probably just smoking skunk) to the quite frankly, stupid.

They are, in no particular order;

Having a heart attack and nobody being around to help me. Don’t worry I know the information in relation to coughing is not a good idea. I’d give it a go though, if I thought that it might help.

Getting lost in remote woodland or a bog and losing mobile signal. I have imagined the one hand poking out of the bog, as the mountain rescue find me, too late.

Getting my white trainers muddy. I bought some Asics that should have been £150. They were reduced to £88 because they are the brightest, whitest trainers that you ever did see. No other fucker wanted them because they are a ridiculous colour. The first time that I wore them I had to wade through black mud. I fucking hate mud. They are no longer white but I have to clean them as soon as they become dirty.

Getting mugged. I have made up all sorts of bizarre scenarios in my head after somebody told me about two big burly men who upon finishing a fell half marathon got mugged by two crack addicts who came out of a field, over a Gate and demanded money. This was in the middle of the British countryside. The two men protested and said that they hadn’t got any money with them as they’d just finished a race. The two crack addicts who were absolutely off it, didn’t believe them and threatened to stab them. A fight ensued and the two burly runners legged it after punching the crack addicts.

Getting attacked by a dog – quite an ordinary and rational fear for a runner but what would I do?

Getting attacked by geese. They’re violent fuckers around our way!

Getting attacked by a rat. You should have seen the size of it. It was fucking massive!

Getting trampled and killed by cows when they stampede in a field. A heard once followed me with malicious intent as I ran past their field. I was certain that they were looking to get out so as to kill me.

Getting attacked by a knife wielding maniac wearing a ski mask or balaclava.

Don’t worry, I have carefully laid out plans for all attacks by both animals and psychos.

All involve squaring up to the assailants and asking them “do you really fancy your chances motherfucker?”if that doesn’t work, plan B is jumping in the canal. Then there’s plan C, the obvious, twatting them with a handy stick and plan D for the murderer is to Facebook live him so that everyone knows what he looks like. Plan E is outrunning them whilst screaming. This definitely works on the Geese as I have used this technique repeatedly and finally if all else seems to have failed, head but anything that moves whilst shouting

“You want some?”

The cows have their own emergency strategy. Obviously I will climb a tree.

At any given point whilst running, I have my keen eyes looking out for potential muggers/murderers/rapists but also Geese, rabid dogs, hard squirrels and vermin that could potentially do me harm. I’m also looking for implements/ weapons to defend myself with.

I’m also scared of falling and laying injured for days, unable to speak or ring for help. This is why I don’t like fell running where there are tufts of grass just waiting to trip me up. Fucking fells are overrated. They are full of mud, psycho drug addled muggers and trip hazards.

Insects can fuck off too. Its just getting to the point In the year when I swallow about four flies per long run as I run with my mouth open.
I’ve often wondered what would happen if they somehow survived in my stomach and then laid eggs. Would the larvae eat me from inside?

Shitting myself.

Pissing myself.

Especially if I’m been eaten from the inside by maggots.

Finding a dead body, in the canal or undergrowth.

Seeing someone drowning.

Falling in the canal by accident.

I have strategies in place for all of these potential incidents. I have 999 already typed into my phone and Facebook live is always ready to go.

In case of finding a dead body, I know to not touch anything so as to not implicate myself.

If anyone should be drowning, I will take my trainers off so as not to dirty them before attempting the rescue.

Stay safe out there, especially all you muggers, I’ve got a machete in my bum bag!

Top ten reasons to Get up off your arse today.

About twelve years ago, I started running.

Some things you need to know about this are;

It wasn’t easy. I am not naturally athletic. I was a bit tubby. I like watching telly.

Prior to this, I enjoyed the odd packet of Silk Cut and I drank too much. I spent my life at work or in the pub. We used to walk past coffee shops and shout,

“OY, THE FUCKING PUB IS OPEN! WHY ARE YOU IN THERE?” At people we didn’t know for fun.

I’m like most women, I enjoyed hockey and netball at school but wasn’t especially good at either. I hated cross country. I couldn’t throw, so I was always the last to be picked for rounders. Someone once shouted that I had corned beef legs whilst I was playing hockey and this seriously fucked with my head. After school, I just stopped exercising. My weight went up if I was content and happy, and went down if I was anxious, worried or unhappy. As I went through my late twenties and early thirties, I put a bit of timber on (that’s an understatement) and it stayed there. I had a body like a barrel. It (the barrel) stayed there for too long. It made me fucking miserable because I couldn’t buy the sort of clothes that I wanted to.

Can I just state the bleeding obvious here. I’m not having a go at people who embrace their curves, enjoy being larger or feel that fat is a feminist issue. I’m saying that I didn’t enjoy being overweight and pretty unhealthy.

And then one day, I sort of realised that if I wanted to have kids, I’d need to lose some weight, give up going out boozing all the time and stop smoking.

I started with swimming and lost some weight.

I’ve had three children. After giving birth to all of them, I was between twelve and a half to thirteen stone. In between each pregnancy, I managed to get back down to a size twelve.
This was down to Running, and the delights of a Davina DVD.

Running is a pastime that I told myself I couldn’t do for over thirty five years. We sometimes tell ourselves that we can’t do things because we are scared to try them. We are scared that we won’t be that good or worse still that people might laugh at us.

I can remember thinking before I had kids that I would always be overweight. I gave in to the negative thoughts and let them consume me.

I’ve never been thin, I’ve always wanted to be a size eight but I’m not built that way. I’d say that I’ve spent most of my adult life as a size fourteen, wanting to be a twelve. At my biggest, though I have been a size eighteen. My sister is naturally much slimmer than me and I was always very envious of her. I wanted bony bits and I never had them. Try as we might, us women, we are always envious of someone’s curves or slenderness, big boobs or little. I am very hung up on body image as I suspect lots of other women are too.

At the age of thirty eight, I did my first 10k. A year later, I had done my first half marathon. When I hit forty. I did my one and only marathon. I trained by myself, it was lonely and boring. I raced by myself. It wasn’t much fun.

Naturally, I had lied to myself. Running marathons is horrific but addictive. It wasn’t my one and only. I’ve just booked to do my seventh. This is because I didn’t give up and then I made friends with people who were a lot better at Running than me and enjoyed my incessant moaning, turning up late and being naughty.

Last week, I started Yoga. Tomorrow, I’m going to try Reggaecize. I Believe that they are going to teach me to twerk.

What I’m trying to say is this.

“Get your arse off the fucking sofa and try something new! Give Running a try, take up badminton, squash, boxing or boot camp.

Don’t give in, if you’ve just had a baby or you’ve just eaten one too many cream cakes because you’ll be a bit tubby and miserable.

Over the years, I have tried Boxing – fucking great fun but I pissed myself whilst skipping and couldn’t do sit ups.

Kettle bells, they wouldn’t let me go back because I was dangerous to the other participants.

Step aerobics, they wouldn’t let me go back because I was a danger to myself.

Swimming, I look like I’m drowning.

Boot camp – I don’t like mud on my hands. I parked in the dogging car park and everyone laughed at me.

Tennis, no seriously – it’s not funny. I have no hand and eye coordination.

I have tried going to the gym. Despite it being full of size eight toned, athletic, tanned pretty women that didn’t seem to sweat, I finally got used to it and almost started to enjoy it until I bumped into an ex boyfriend after I’d been on a running machine. I never went back.

Back to reasons to get up off your arse.

I promised ten.

Exercise gives you endorphins
You will meet new people and make friends.
If you need to lose weight, it will help.
It helps with anxiety and depression
If you’re outside, you’ll get a tan
You can buy trainers and nice leisurewear
You could become a Running wanker!
You can moan about shit to people and they have to listen.
You get medals and stuff for finishing races.
You get out of the house and away from your kids for an hour or so.
Some of this stuff is actually free! Well – Running is!

And if you think “I can’t” then consider this.

There is always someone worse than you. The very fact that you tried something makes you a better person that the one that is still sat on their arse, on the sofa.

I am possibly one of the worst runners within my group of regular Running buddies but I’m better than other people. It’s not about that though (apart from on race day). It’s about getting out there in your new Asics trainers at 5.30 am.

We have a group called “Run Bitch Run” if you require any encouragement with starting running.

It’s ace, we have beginners, intermediate and advanced running wankers.

I have just undertaken my first little plod around since the marathon last week.

On Monday and Tuesday, I couldn’t actually walk downstairs. The little shits got away with murder as we’ve got a three storey house. They played the game where they shouted me From one end of the house and then laughed when I arrived ten minutes later.

On Wednesday and under the supervision of a trained professional, I inserted a sterilised needle into two of my toes which has blisters under the nails.