Picking out Sports Direct like it's Louis Vuitton

A year or so before my obsession with running came along, a friend asked whether I would like to do the 5K race for life, I instantly said yes. I worked out that it's roughly 3 miles and I genuinely thought it would be a piece of cake (I mean it takes no time to do that in a car). Unfortunately (or fortunately for me), we were too late to register. Thinking about it now makes me realise that like me there must be a lot of people that think they can easily run a 5K, despite never having done one. I'm three weeks away from a half marathon and I still find the 5K challenging. The better you get at endurance (or ignorance of pain) the easier it is to concentrate on other aspects, like your breathing, arm movement, foot fall, posture etc. The more of these key aspects you improve the more that you push yourself on the shorter runs, thus they never seem to get any easier.

So the Leeds 10K...

In preparation for the day, my big busted bezza (bbb) prepared an amazing carb packed meal full of chorizo, spicy sausage, tomatoes, pasta etc. No alcohol (which is unheard of on a Saturday night in Leeds!) and most importantly an early night (however, it’s not unusual to for a Leodensian to be found in a foreign bed, on a Saturday night ;.)). I woke up to the pounding of the rain on the window, and the anxious feeling of 'can I actually do this'. I had already entered two 10K races and several 5K park runs  and so felt physically prepared for the run, but running is only 60% reliant on your actual physical strengths, the other 40% (and possibly the most important) is your mental strength.

When I first started to run my thoughts were always something along the lines of; when is this going to end, just until the next lamp post, I need to stop now, I need to make it home, my back hurts, I can’t breathe. You have to challenge an alter ego that hates this physical exertion. After a few months, I remember reaching the front gate and realising I hadn't once thought about stopping (only how much it hurt and how hungry I was).

I ran the Leeds 10K with The Geordie. I like to think that I was the one that encouraged this particular Geordie to put on his trainers and become a runner (he may say otherwise). Prior to this race we went on a few sessions when I visited, to get used to each others style. First impressions were that he had the pace and was very much capable of running up hills with little obvious struggle (the b***d) but he didn't necessarily have the same passion for the challenge as I did (and found it impossible to not get a  blister of some sort with his cheepo trainers). This was made more obvious by the copious amounts of booze consumed the night previous to the 10K!

bbb drove us down to the start line (where it was still pounding with rain). We joined a crowd of people stood on Millennium Square already completely drenched, but surprisingly looking positive (only in Yorkshire). The local radio DJ's and a PI provided a warm up, which was massively entertaining and managed to distract us from the challenge ahead (that and watching the Geordie's lack of co-ordination as we jumped up and down to black eyed peas ‘I Gotta Feeling’). Luckily, the rain petered out just before the start, but the already wet t-shirts were a sign of future major chafing for those vas virgins. The Geordies nipples were bleeding through his brand new white t-shirt within half an hour :.) 

We started the race a little fast (it’s the adrenaline, training just goes out the window), however, it was amazing to run through the streets of a city like Leeds. Taking part in such large races gives you a sense of community spirit, at one point we ran under a tunnel (which echoed everyone’s deep breathing and heavy footsteps) when someone shouted 'ogy ogy ogy' and everyone replied with the usual 'oi oi oi'. I love/miss Leeds. There were even people standing in their gardens banging pots and pans to cheer us on (despite this being pretty annoying it was the perfect distraction).

I found this particular 10K arduous towards the end, no matter how much you train for an event, how you feel on the day and how your body is behaving is unpredictable and varies between races. Physically the worst part of a race, for me, is the end, if I can see/or know the end is near my limbs start to give up and I get a wierd stomach ache and everything seems to go in slow motion.  All this happened, along with the Geordie stating the obvious in my ear; we’re nearly there, just a little longer, come on not long now!...(this was repaid on the 26 mile walk in the Yorkshire Dales :.))

P.S The Geordie has now bought the whole of Sports Direct to the point where he is giving away his free mugs and more disturbingly he points out people wearing Sports Direct gear like it's Louis Vuitton.

What's wrong have you never seen a running Quasimodo before?

The second 10K (June 5^th) was in practice for the third (June 19^th) (so not to show myself up in front of the then vegetating Geordie). I was given a flyer, in a goody bag (which sadly didn't have a t-shirt in, but contained a life saving banana), at the end of my first 10K. After a brief read I decided the race was far too close for me to psyche myself back up and so wrote it off completely. It wasn’t until 2 days before the run that I decided to man up, eat loads of carbs and just do it (I mean why not?? it was for charity).

The run was located in the next village at a stately manor (very posh, lots of sheep and a conservatory cafe). Unfortunately, what I didn’t realise was that you cannot get directly to it by bus. I hadn't really thought it through and to be fair I wasn't entirely awake. I ended up walking for 40 minutes on a road with no path that seemed to lead aimlessly into the back and beyond, before reaching the main entrance. I was ready for a power nap before I had even begun.

The event aimed to raise money for the Air Ambulance Rescue Service (I can't say this is a charity is particularly close to my heart but at least if I ever require this service, I did my bit for the air fare. Also, I’ve signed up for the Jane Tomlinson 1 day 26 mile walk in the Yorkshire Dales on August the 14^th, so the air fare contribution may just come in handy).

The one speculation was to wear yellow (like the rescue helicopter), however, the only yellow item of clothing that I managed to dig out was a shrunken Primark T-shirt (that I occassionally wear for bed). Despite the fact that it may be quite liberating to run with my belly hanging out I don't think it would have been appropriate at that particular family event. You will be pleased to know that when I arrived they were selling yellow t-shirts for a fiver and so my belly stayed inside my t-shirt (which I made sure to wear to the next 10K, remember it is all about scaring the competition, even if the competition was Andy Sugden from Emmerdale!).

The race day itself was really well put together, however, the actual race started far too late. The organisers had obviously never ran a race before (not because they were rotund) or they wouldn't have started it at peak sun/heat. The mayor and mayoress of the village turned up (in their bling) to say their thing, by the time the mayoress got hold of the microphone everyone was getting restless, to the point where a man in the crowd comically shouted 'get on with it' looking a little embarrassed she cut the babble and honked the horn and we were off.

I always set off at a steady pace, letting the pro's, eager beavers and fast burn outs get a head. My mental wall is fairly early on. For the most part, as long as I can get through the first 3K I seem to go into auto pilot until the second round of omg I still have that far to go! Then the porridge kicks in and I’m back in the zone until the final slog (I hate this bit). I soon found myself stuck next to a bloke that was too hard to shake off. I clocked him as my pace setter within 10 minutes. 20 minutes later the awkwardness of not being able to outpace one another resulted in polite encouraging conversation 'I like your pace, we can do this!' He then proceeded to repeatedly ask me if I was ok, if I would like him to carry my water and whether I was ok to get home on my own.... obviously, he has never seen a running quasimodo before.

It was at this point I realised that wearing head phones really doesn’t help me a. Network (to be more precise find young hot athletic men) or (and probably more important) b. Hear myself breathe. The next stage of my training was running without music as well as improving my time for the next 10K, whilst training for the half marathon (argh!) and the 26 mile walk (er crap).