No More Running

This post contains many, many swears. If you do not like swears then I politely suggest you *cough* off. Ta.

I hate it. I’m shit at it. It takes up loads of time. Why the fuck do I do it? It was ok when I started out. Back then every run was like a major achievement. Whoopee get me! Now I can go run a bloody 10 mile race, score a PB and be absolutely sickened with myself. That’s not what it’s about is it?

Today’s ‘performance’ – ugh – I ran my second ever 10 mile event. The first was 6 months ago – the Yorkshire 10 Mile. Let me tell you, that Race sucked balls. S-U-C-K-E-D B-A-L-L-S. Not the course or the event, no it was just a bad day out for me. I struggled. My tech failed. My fucking wayward water bottle tripped another runner up. I had to walk way more than I had hoped. It was a thoroughly shit day out. My time was 1:48:00. Well guess what? I beat that time today by an absolutely underwhelming 115 seconds. I mean wow. Proper fucking wow

Listen I’m usually ‘a win is a win’ kinda girl but this today has absolutely pounded me. Here’s the thing; I ran today. Like, yup, actually ran. I had KT tape on for my knees and ankles. I was decked out in compression. I only stopped to walk fast when guzzling from my hydration backpack (yes I had one of those too!).

I like to call this shot ‘what a dick’
 I even decided that I’d do a little steady pace for 5 minutes then faster for 30 secs interval approach. Well, well, fucking well. What a pissing waste of time. All of that and I wasn’t really any faster than when I walked. What a fucking first class loser I am.

Right! That’s it running. Do one. You’re taking the piss and I am not happy. 


All of this vitriol, what on earth would I think if I heard someone else talking like this? I’d be horrified.

Say what now?!
 Why are they being so cruel to themselves? And I realise and remember: this is what my conditions/disorders/syndromes/shitness does. It takes things from me. Things like friendships, and careers, and money, and self respect, and all manner of things. It takes, never satisfied.

TomTom giveth and TomTom also taketh

Well not this time you nasty bastard. So what? It was a bit of a shit one. All runners have them. It happens. And, yes, I am frustrated as hell that I’m struggling to up my pace because of the panic that it starts in me. Who wouldn’t find that annoying as arse?! But I’m not giving up am I? No. *shouts into the void that is the internet* I AM NOT GIVING UP. I won’t. I just won’t. Fuck you. Fuck bad days. Fuck panic attacks. At the end of the day I have some bloody cool running gear and I’m sorry (not sorry) but it’s got to be worn. 

Last week at the Sheffield Half. Clearly enjoying running (and rocking some kit too, I ain’t afraid to say it)

So here’s an idea: I’m going to run MORE! You love it don’t you?! In the month of May I am going to set myself a challenge to run 100 miles. It’ll be a challenge right enough but it’s also achievable. This Raynauds shite has been really getting me down but hopefully the cold will become less of an issue which will make a monumental difference.

Hate running? What am I on about? I must be mad (no comment on site name please *ahem*)! I bloody love the daft bastard. We’ll get through this, one pigeon toed, wonky step at a time. Love you running. I hate it when we fight x (But you can still sleep on the sofa because you were an absolute **** today)

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