Running on ice

KB-HB, all road route after I gave up ice skating, 8.5m. 1h 26m

Wow, that snow was amazing! But not so fabulous for training on. Evil ice hiding everywhere. Had to run on the road and annoy drivers. Went out after dark and could smell fires burning in cosy Kew cottages. Spooky atmos, snowman corpses abandoned, and a kind of soft glow on ugly roads, hardly anyone about, just me and the Arctic Monkeys.

Got a permanent cough from breathing chilly air. 

Siberian Malice

HB to CB (6.7m), 1h 4m

Tried to do a "fast run" today but legs really tired from yesterday's exertions, and the much anticipated siberian wind was revving up.

The snowflakes became my fairy friends, jogging along the black pavement, blowing me along prettily. Until I headed north on CB and they turned on me.

Saw a beautiful Airedale, Rusty Rawson RIP.

Hungover determination

To RB, (10.31 miles), 1h 34m

Bearing in mind that fewer than 24 hours ago I was literally blind drunk, (it took me over an hour to navigate my way from bomb scared Green Park to the 94 bus on Oxford St), today's effort was a testament to mind over matter (it's not only the body you need to train for the marathon!).

I spent friday night applauding my own training efforts, while consuming tumblers of toxic alcohol, and maintained well beyond midnight that I would be out running the next day.

Loving a challenge, but still burping tequila, I was really grateful for my recently purchased waterbottle (a long distance running badge of honour), and was determined to map a new route all the way to Richmond Bridge. This was all good on the way there, goal achieved, but the return journey was windy and cold, friction burns rubbing friction burns, and a real case of every step counts.

vanity strikes

To Richmond Lock (9.91m), 1h 27m 32s

Wasn't keen at all tonight. Spent the whole sunny day indoors sporting my running kit with hopeful intention. Finally ventured out at 4.45pm to subject my poor rosacea stricken skin to the cold night. The pigment of my face belongs to a middle-aged farmer’s wife who has spent all her adult life weather beaten, chasing bulls around the Scottish highlands.

I also gave into the pressure and got a bit vain, I’m ashamed to write it, but I actually put on make up to jog in! I happened to catch myself in the mirror, vpl glorious in lycra tights and greasy hair from 3 whole days without washing, and I couldn’t bear to go out and make my skin even redder and my hair even more mank, so on went the slap to compensate.

Still it seemed to work, I got a wolf whistle, and I ran 10 miles. In the dark! (dig for the logic in that.) It was a bit scary, on a new route in little light. I had to really concentrate on the undulating ground and got all dizzy. I got dull brown blindness. It was like the seconds of grey fuzz during laser eye surgery when they cut the flap, but it went on for longer and the happy ending was the tower blocks of Brentford rather than perfect un-aided vision.

I got stitch for the first time too. Ran through it and eventually, after a good 45 minutes, it went away. Toe aching too. 

New Year, New You! (begging email 2)

Before I let you read any further, I had better inform those of you who had no idea that I was taking part in the London Marathon this year (or indeed that I was still alive), that I am taking part in the London Marathon this year! (and consequently..)

As I am sure you are aware, such an honour doesn’t come cheap. I have to raise £1800 of charitable donations, which means contacting everyone who I have ever met and some that I haven’t…

If this is the first you have heard of it count yourselves lucky that a) I considered it too cheeky to beg your sponsorship in December.
And b) that you are not hearing about this in April, when out of desperation I will be contacting people I’d really rather not have anything to do with but seeing as it’s for charity…:)

To those who have so generously coughed up already, thank you.

So, here I am, asking you to lend an ear to my plea and sponsor me on behalf of the Richard House Hospice. I warn you I may be rude, I may be brash, because marathon training is just too painful for niceties. And it’s not for me, it’s for the kids…

If you can’t be arsed to read anymore then just go to www.justgiving.com/katerawson now, give me your money and tell your computer that any future emails from me are spamspamspamspam. I warn you, I will be persistent…

New Year, New You!
OR
New year, New addiction!

Chocolate soya milk. Actually, not just soya milk, but oat milk too. And rice milk if I’m desperate. So long as it’s chocolate flavoured, and derived from non-GM sources.

I have given up all other forms of the cocoa devil after my boyfriend abandoned me for silicon valley mere days after present-opening-day, and left me to devour a whole tin of Celebrations by myself.
In my defense, I figured it was just another marathon training themed gift: money for trainers, watch to monitor my progress, spa voucher to massage tired muscles, sweet and sugary treat to replace lost carbohydrates? I started counting the Bounty ones towards my five-a-day, figuring the combo of coconut and protein packed Snickers was the ideal pre-training breakfast. Something had to be done.
December was HELL. Cold cold cold. Nevermind runners’ trots (I’ll save that for the next installment..), I had runners’ snots. And festive party hangovers.

January has been a bit warmer and last weekend I finally felt ready to run a half-marathon. I had it all sussed out- no alcohol, lots of sleep. Friday was a premature Burns’ Night celebration, so I allowed myself a sneaky dram. We toasted the Haggis and in return it fueled me along 13.5 miles of Thames towpath the next morning. I don’t know if it was the protein or the sheer wind power but I got home in under 2 hours, knocking 4 minutes off my 2 week old time for 12.5 miles, and I felt like wonder woman!

So maybe the cheeky sneaky choccie milk is not my new drug. Maybe running is my new drug (NB I am not a Drug Addict, just an addictive type of person.) You have no choice when you are long distance running but to relax, and give in to the inevitability of the next tread. Everything is positive and achievable. And when the golden sunset is reflected in a full pint of stout at a riverside pub, it is so beautiful, your body pumping, working just like it is meant to. Yum.

Actually. Truthfully. There is a rival for my affections…Guitar Hero 3: Legends of Rock. Scoring 97% accuracy and 76 consecutive notes on Sunshine of My Love surely constitutes a successful indoor training session.

So. You know what you have to do. Whether I have inspired you awe, or your sympathy. I do not have many rich friends, I am relying on quantity of donations rather than quality so I need EVERYONE to sponsor me! The minimum amount is £2 and I will be sooooooooooo grateful.

However, if you aren’t an actor/temp/subsidised individual, rather you serve a big multi-national conglomerate and can afford a nice round figure of a donation, then I am expecting great things.

Remember it’s not for me, (when WAS the last time Rawson bought a round??) it’s for the kids…

In fact I shall lead by example and hack into my boyfriend’s Paypal account right now.

If u are really bored, you can read a more factual (and less silly) training diary at katesjogblog.blogspot.com

Thank you, thank you and thank you again, kate x

Legitimate half marathon, and more!

To PB, back to KB and .5 mile beyond towards Richmond (13.5!), 1h 49m 18s!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my god, amazing! I can't believe that time! Bloody Dermot O'Leary was obviously hungover and kept getting the time wrong on radio 2, making me speed up to beat the clock.

I had an achey left shin for the first few miles, and an annoyingly hungry bum (underwear choice is very important, I am discovering. Maybe Sweaty Betty in her thong has the right idea...) But after half an hour I was settled in and for the first time ventured beyond Kew Bridge. More tweed appears the closer you get to Richmond. 

Nackered but dead chuffed.

New trainer success!

Oxfam-PB (8m), 1h 15m

Was really up for it today, hadn't run for 5 days and finished early at the studio, so could squeeze this one in. Was getting dark though so did the woody and puddley south side first. 

Sprinted to the river, then my bra pings apart. It has removable straps! How ridiculous, anyone who can be bothered to change the format of their sports bra to suit a halterneck top, well...The less attractive the gear, the more serious the runner (the excuse for my trampish outfit). I cross the road to avoid comparison with the hair-straightened, strictly-no-vpl hipsters of the Sweaty Betty brigade.

Anyway, with the help of a passing friend I was strapped back in and flying! Managed to swap my trainers (big fan of Sweatshop now), and needed to rebel against a horrible 30 minutes on a treadmill to test them out (gyms-yuck). New Asics GT 2 series feels like running on air, glorious.