One Week To Go

One week.  In exactly one week I will be putting all my training to the test and taking on the biggest physical challenge I’ve done.

So how have I spent my last weekend before the big event?  One final long swim? A long ride followed by a long run?  Some strength work?

Nope.  None of that.

I’m hungover!

I’ve done absolutely nothing today.  In fact, I only got out of bed at about half 4.  (Before that it was just trips back and forth to the bathroom to throw up.  Yup, I was sick.  Several times). I went out last night with a few people from work for pizza and I ended up dancing the night away.  When I’m usually fast asleep in bed dreaming of the route I’m taking the next day on the bike/running I was having a dance off with a beer in my hand.

And my god am I paying for it today.

No regrets though.  It was exactly what I needed.  To let my hair down and relax.  Is one week before the race a good time to do it? I don’t know, I will have to get back to you on that one.  But right now? Yeah – it was.

Strangely enough my other half has said nothing about it.  No moans, no grumping, no comments about how we were supposed to be swimming in the Loch and he had a bike ride to do.  Nothing.  So he either knew just how much I needed it or………. something is up his sleeve.

And right enough, when I eventually made it in to the kitchen about an hour ago for a glass of water and painkillers, up on the board was his training plan for a race he’s just signed up to in August.  

But it’s ok.  Once Ironman is done – in 1 week – I can (and I should) relax my training.  Step back a little to give my mind and body a rest and to give him more opportunity to step it up.  

Will that happen? Maybe.  Ha ha.  It might last one week, possibly two.  I will let you know.

One thing I do know though…….

I’m never drinking again.

Ironman Training 

‘May the odds be ever in your favour’


Well that’s not really happening right now is it!

After Fridays fall then Sundays ‘defiant’ half marathon (yes I can do this, I’m fine, the distance isn’t an issue, oh no wait, the pain!) I’ve had a rather quiet week so far.

Running is very difficult as the movement hurts my cheek a bit too much.  At most I’ve done the odd mile on the treadmill to keep me from going insane but I’ve spent the entire time gurning like your grandfather and checking every two seconds it’s not started bleeding again.  Good form it is not my friend.

I managed a session in the pool – which was one of those where I had to guilt myself in to going – and did an ok 2000m.  My swim buddy bailed on me because of the rain and a heavy weekend but I had a set written on my hand – and I made him feel suitably bad the next day. 

I also managed an open water session at Loch Ore again.  However this time the wind was against me and it was incredibly choppy.  At one point I was at the second buoy and every time I looked up – oh yes, my face was actually in the water! – I was getting further and further back from it.  I persevered though but again the third lap was very much a ‘force yourself’ lap.  Had Joe been finished his run I would have quit at 2 laps.  It did make me feel better to hear the stronger swimmers complaining of how hard it was though.  


Any form of weights, pull ups, push ups or even some yoga has been completely off the cards this week so far.  My hand has turned a lovely shade of black and blue (which I’m taking to mean it’s getting better) and reminds me quite often it’s still not quite right.  So it’s been impossible to apply any pressure on it what so ever.

So that leaves me with only one thing I can comfortably do – and it’s the one thing that landed me in this broken bodied state in the first place – cycling. 

I’ve stuck to the spin bike as we appear to be in monsoon season right now, not keen to have another crash I thought it the sensible option.  I’ve tried following it up with a run but as I said it’s still too painful on the cheek so thats been limited to a mile.    I’m dealing with it all not too bad though to be fair.  I mean, I haven’t hurt anyone (yet, however there have been a few moments that have involved clenched fists).  There have been moments I’ve gazed longingly out the window desperate to go for a proper run, U2’s With or Without You playing over and over in my head…..

But I’m ok.  I’m dealing with it.

I may have had to look the other way when I’ve driven past someone running down the street, getting their fix, wondering when I’m going to get mine, cautiously trying not to swerve in to them out of jealousy…..

Honestly, I’m fine.

In all seriousness I should be back to running properly again by Saturday.  And even though I’m working I can still get out for my 5 miles at lunch time – regardless of wind or rain I’m running!

Then it will only be 3 weeks until event day.   3 weeks to get that last long ride in.  That last open water swim.   That last long (ish) run.  

Plenty time to change the nappy as I will be well and truly ‘filling ma breeks’ by then! 

Is it Saturday yet?

Face Plant

‘I’ve signed you up for a charity cycle’ – text received from Joe.

Cool, sounds fun, I’m up for that.

Keyline was the company that had organised it to raise money for Prostate Cancer and Joe was a regular customer in there.  They knew he liked cycling so asked if he wanted to join them.  He asked if I could come along and signed us up for day 3 of their 4 days.  Loch Lomond to Fort William – roughly 80 miles.

We met up with the group at 8:30am.  There was only one other female (Hayley) but that didn’t really bother me.  Everyone introduced themselves and after seeing the extent of the sun burn on a couple of them I gladly accepted the offer of the sun cream!  The brief was simple (even for me) – we were cycling on the A82 heading to Fort William. Straight road.  Easy.


We set off and man it was difficult trying to figure out what position to put myself in.  Do I push? Do I do a comfortable speed? Do I hang back with Hayley and keep her company? Oh my word the pressure!  

But…. oh my word… instantly the views were gorgeous.  We were going along Loch Lomond and I couldn’t resist a photo or 2.



The road was bumpy in places and about 3 miles in one of the guys hit a kerb.  A small bump but a bump none the less.  On to the road and it was a lot smoother but quite busy.  At 15 miles it was decided the next part was too dangerous for a big group of cyclists as it was full of twists and turns with very few passing places for the impatience cars and vans.  The bikes were loaded in to one of the support vehicles and the riders went in the mini bus behind.



A few miles down the road and we all got out and got our bikes.  Cue fall number 1.  I stupidly tried to clip in whilst pushing up a gravel path and promptly fell over – slow motion of course.  No biggie though.  It happens.

I decided to stick back with Hayley for a wee while and started chatting.  She was doing all 4 days and had the attitude of ‘I will get there when I get there’.  4 days for someone who only really cycled to and from work was a bit of a difference! 

Glancing down I noticed my handle bar was bent.  Oh you’re kidding.  How could a simple fall like that have bent my handle bars?  I was going to have to see if I could get this fixed.  I shouted to Hayley I was going to try and catch up with Joe and see if he could sort it.  ‘See you soon’ she said.  I put my foot down and pedalled harder.  

It was busy but it was ok.  I see another from the group just in front of me.  As I began to catch up with him I see a large sunken drain in the road.  I turn to my right to make sure I have space to go round and I’m met with a van so close to my face I could have stuck my tongue out and licked it.  I swing my head back round but the gust from the van pushes me straight in to the hole.  As I bump out of it I throw myself to the left and away from the road.  The force of the bump has me flying over the handle bars.  I see a solid iron man hole cover and thank the lord I’m wearing a helmet as I hit it face first, my left hip stopping my motion on the side of it.

I roll over and instantly throw my right hand on to my face, knowing I’ve hit it quite bad.  It’s wet.  Ok I’m not moving my hand.  I lie there for a few seconds a bit shocked.  Did that really just happen? I move my legs still expecting them to be attached to my bike (I’ve never crashed before! I’m amazed they unclipped!).  Legs are fine – I can still run.  I try to move my left hand which is sticking awkwardly out.  Nope! That isn’t happening without considerable pain! Oh… shit.  Ok, leave it there.  You know Hayley’s not far behind you.  

The rider that was in front of me is now at my side.  I suspect I let out some hell of a yell or made a very loud noise as I face planted a solid object.  Soon enough he says ‘Here’s Hayley now, it’s ok, she’s a nurse’.  There’s a few people round me now.  I feel a bit of an idiot.  This wasn’t even 20 miles in! She asks me to move my hand and I garble some rubbish about there being blood – like she can’t see it!  The support vehicle pulls up and she shouts for a first aid kit.  

I’m lying on the ground focusing on my breathing trying desperately not to cry or think about what the hell my face looks like when there’s a thump on my cheek.  For a second I remember back to Mags hitting her face at Tough Mudder, sneezing and her whole face blowing up.  Please, no.

‘Fraser!’ ‘Jesus Christ!’.

Turns out Fraser had thrown the first aid kit across the road and hit me square in the face with it.   No, I don’t blame you for laughing out loud at that.  Comedy gold to be fair.

Hayley patches my face up with some steri strips and a bandage.  She tells me I’ve punctured it and will need to get it looked at.  As she’s doing it I ask if my bikes ok.  I’m convinced I’ve buckled my wheel and I’m worried about Ironman in just 4 weeks time.  Luckily it was just the other handle that was bent and a couple of the guys managed to push bits back in place.  I sit up and try to move my shoulder, which I can do but bloody hell its sore.  I can’t really move my left hand either but it’s not really grazed or anything.

I decide to carry on.  I know that if I don’t get back on that bike right now Ironman will be over for me.  I won’t make the start line.  Everything still works on the bike and the support vehicle is right there.  I start off with Hayley and agree to take it slow but as soon as I’m confident the bikes ok I speed up.  I think the adrenaline just kicks in and I refuse to let ‘that fear’ creep in to my mind.  My hip is screaming at me and I can’t move my left hand but I am doing this cycle.

I stop at the round about.  Naturally both exits say A82.  I wait for a minute or two to see if the rest of them catch up but all I can think about is getting to the next stop (The Green Welly Boot) where I can get red bull and pain killers.  So I carry on.  The van goes past me and I give it a wave to say I’m fine.  Not so sure my face said that though.  I was extremely aware of how close some of the cars and vans were coming and after my fall I was what can only be described as a small ball of utter fury.  

I’m about a mile and a half out from the stop when this blue crappy fiat 500 literally skims past me.  I blow my top shouting and screaming at it and try to chase it down – fully intent on banging on the window and letting all my rage out.  It’s a car though.  It has an engine.  I don’t catch it.  

When I finally arrive at the stop Joes standing waiting there.  ‘You alright?’ He asks.  ‘I need red bull and pain killers’.  We walk round to the van to get his wallet and I scan the car park for the Fiat, just in case.

I am genuinely fine.  The bleeding doesn’t feel like it’s stopped yet and the pain is ‘a bit much’ but overall it’s not stopping me from cycling.  I can’t really eat anything as I can’t move my cheek but I can drink my red bull.  What more do I need? Ha ha.


Back on the road and the wonderful sites continue.  I draft Joe along one section and enjoy taking it that bit easier.  Every time we stop and I put my left foot down I get a shooting pain right through my hip so I don’t stop for many photos.  The faster guys in the group go on ahead and stop for selfies.  This gives me a bit of a chuckle as I go past grown men in Lycra cheesing at their phones.  Only for them to go past again and it all to repeat.  


The views are what keep me going.  Gliding down through the hills past Glen Etive – it’s astounding.  Despite the pain I was enjoying it.  


We were booked on the last train back to the start so it was a race against time to get there after my fall.  At times I wasn’t sure we would make it and we would have to bail.  With 15 miles to go I have to admit I was cracking.  There was another hairy moment when another hole in the road appeared and it was a close call.  There were tears shortly after that.  As I counted down the miles I just wanted to get there.  

The final stretch to Fort William was bad with cars and vans.  They seemed to be in a competition to see who could get closest to us.  Joes temper was going at this point so when we finally saw the group it was a great relief.  I wanted to punch the air but my I couldn’t raise my left arm and I couldn’t hold on to the bike to raise my right.  Lots of hand shaking and well dones all round – and a few ‘you’ve got bigger balls than me lass’.  
Unfortunately we couldn’t wait for Hayley and Fraser to come in as we had to get the train.  I went to shop there to get more painkillers.  ‘Oooh that looks sore’ the woman said.  ‘It is, can I have you’re strongest pain killers please’ I asked.  She didn’t take card but she insisted I take them with me as I hobbled back to Joe to try and scrape some change.  

Waiting for the train and I spot the drink and food trolley.  ‘Are you going on this train?’ I ask her.  ‘Yes I am love’.  ‘Oh thank god, do you take card?’  – ‘yes, signals not great, what is it you’re after?’ She asks.

‘A cup of tea, a sandwich, biscuits – actually, everything.  I will take everything’.

I’m hungry now – so is Joe.

3 hours on the train back to the start and surprisingly I can move when it stops.  Pain killers were doing their job.  A quick call to my mum to say I was having to nip to the hospital to get my face seen to (no jokes please) and we were back on the road heading to Perth. 

For a late Friday night the emergency room was really quiet.  I was seen very quickly and thoroughly checked over.  An X-ray showed a tiny fracture in my hand which I thought was just bumped hard.  They were a bit concerned on my hip.  Said it should be ok but if it didn’t get better to go back.  And I got away with glue in my cheek as the puncture didn’t penetrate all the way through.  

I’ve spent the day after resting and frustrated.  I missed park run, I’m tired because it was a long day and an uncomfortable sleep.  I have a half marathon race tomorrow.  It’s a championship race.  I really don’t know if I’m going to manage it.  If I do get round it’s not going to be in a spectacular time, so for me, it won’t be a race.  But I do want to see if I can do it. The positive is that I cycled 75 miles yesterday and my legs are fine.  

It was a spectacular day, there’s no denying that.  Some great people and laughs (including the bag to the face!) and the scenery.  I’m very grateful for having the opportunity to do it and I admire Keyline for encouraging its employees to do it also.  It’s got me thinking what I could do at my work!

No I’m not out running trying to do crazy maths whilst writing this.  This post, this very one, is about Stirling Marathon.  And the title will become clear soon enough (I promise you won’t need one of those calculators with more buttons than a remote control).


The inaugural Great Stirling Scottish Marathon (what a bloody mouthful – it will be called Stirling from now on) was Sunday past – and my third marathon.  I had quite a complicated aim.  Under 4 hours but if it didn’t feel right at any point I was to pull back because I can’t risk the Half Ironman in 6 weeks (eeek, little poo came out) and I still need to carry on training for it.  So, one side of the scale to the next – under 4 hours but gentle walk to finish if anything happens.  

All runners were to get the shuttle bus as it started at the safari park in Blair Drummond which is on a bad road on a normal day.  Happy to report I handled this by myself with no issue.  Wow.  Feels like I might be growing up! 

Joking aside I was surprisingly calm about this event.  Admittedly there was the use of breathing techniques a lot but, no actual issue. 

Well…..

Not until I needed the toilet.  The boast of plenty of toilets on the pre-race info was just ever so slightly exaggerated.  To the extent of there being more truth in the existence of Santa Clause than the number of toilets they had provided! I queued for over 40 minutes.  I watched the elites start, the fast club runners start, the orange wave, my wave and even the wave behind me before I had managed to relieve myself! As you’ll know from previous posts, I’m not too shy that I won’t ‘drop trou’ if needs must but I wasn’t about to do that with the risk of an antelope or a rhino coming up and sniffing my butt! 

What’s she up to?

So I was late starting.  Which meant weaving through hundreds of runners at a different pace to me.  I didn’t like it any more than they did.  I can almost forgive the women who elbowed me sharply in the ribs, almost.  There was a moment later on in the race when I saw her again thanks to the laps and I briefly considered tripping her up.  Joking! 

I had been dropped at the pick up by Joe, my daughter, my youngest and my mum.  Thanks to my daughters ability to sniff out a Marks and Spencer’s hot chocolate within a 5 mile range they were able to find somewhere to kill some time before heading to the course to try and spot me.

It was great running weather – we had just a spittle of rain.  Didn’t need sun glasses but was comfortable in shorts and vest.  Perfect.  The first section of the run was through a few small villages and there was great support from the locals.  Lots of kids out with sweets and high fives.  About 8 miles in I heard a familiar voice shout my name.  It was Gail from my work.  She sounded really surprised to see me which I’m putting down to being ‘surprised she actually managed to spot me’ and not ‘surprised I was actually running’.  Either way it was great to see her and I gave her a huge grin and wave as I went by.  Running.

A little further on and a lady from my running club jumped out from the crowd screaming ‘Go Perth Road Runners’.  Genuinely awesome enthusiasm.  Love it!! 

Not far past that and I see my family.  My daughters holding up the sign she ‘loving’ made for me.  (Loving should probably be replaced with bribed if I’m totally honest.  But a sign is a sign.  And it was for me! And I loved it!).  My youngest was shouting ‘go mummy’ and the other half was still smiling so I knew they weren’t bored yet.  My mum was still trying to get her camera turned on after I went past but that’s Nanny Netty for you ha ha.


Half way was a bit of a climb up and round the university.  On reflection it was barely a hill at all but at the time it was the equivalent of a hill race.  True story.  I spotted a couple of guys from my club and decided to try and use them to keep my pace up.  I was a little worried about having started at the very back and didn’t want to come in with an awful time.  I have a wave and ‘your going good, well done’ when I eventually caught them.  Not long after I did I spotted another from my club so did the same again.  Slightly harder this time, it felt he was running the same pace as me.  Then, just as I was about 100m behind him he veered off the road and in to the bushes. I won’t lie, I felt hard done to.  All that hard work to catch up with him and the only way I did was because he stopped to pee! How dare he! Did he not know I was chasing him down?? Ha ha.

The long straight in the by pass was awful.  It puts me off running the same course again.  It just seemed to go on forever.  Then at the end of it was the lead in to the dreaded lapping system.  I really didn’t think I would be able to count to 3 at this point.  It was very de-moralising passing signs for 22miles when you are only 17 in.  I was convinced I had gone the wrong way when I first saw 800m! That’s it, well done Ella, you have actually been that stupid that you’ve missed the laps.  Your names going to be all over the papers and all the social media sites.  Game over.

I hadn’t though.  When I hit the underpasses I knew I was going the right way.  Along with the bypass the underpasses were atrocious.  I didn’t think they would bother me but the 3 times down and up and trying to get past people in a tight space was near impossible.  I hope that gets changed.  The big benefit of the lapping was the regular support.  Now that is something you can’t complain about!  It kept me going in the hardest miles.

I wasn’t really checking my watch much but when I was trying to keep on track with my laps I couldn’t help but notice my time.  22 miles and I did a quick calculation.  Ok, going to have to be careful if I wanted to make the 4 hour target.  The underpasses were really killing my mood so I decided if I at least beat my last time of 4hrs 9 then I would be happy.  There was quite clearly a blister forming on my left foot as well as some other infestation no doubt so that would be a good enough goal.  Another check and I really was cutting it fine.  Think of the Half Ironman Ella, don’t be silly.  23 miles and I try to do maths again.  I’ve got a Parkrun distance to go and I’m at about 3hrs 25.  Parkrun is 3.2 miles.  

Even at 10 minute miles I can still get under 4hrs.  

And I’m running faster than 10 minute miles.

Don’t slow down!!! You can get in under the 4 hours!! You can do this!!

I stop to walk for a second and get my breath. Naturally.

Whatever ecosystem was generating in my left trainer screamed out in pain.  

Ok, I needed to start running again. 

Knowing I ‘had this’ I slowed my pace.  I was now at the 800m mark and happy to see the finish.  2 women in front of me held hands, raising them in the air.  I won’t lie, this did irritate me a little.  I was about to come in in under 4 hours and I wasn’t going to get a good finish photo because I would be blocked by their arms. (I’m all about the photos).  I tried to speed up past them and crossed the line just to the side.

I checked my watch.

3hrs 55m 26seconds.

Possibly the happiest I have ever been at the end of a race!! I find Joe and I’m jumping.  ‘3hrs 55!’ I scream at him.  ‘I know!’ He says. 

I’m very, very happy.  Nike might have been going for a sub 2hr attempt, but for me, this was the equivalent.


I also see Kenny at the finish who has run 110 marathons.  110!! He’s looking for the baggage bus which he thinks might be quite far away but there are no signs.  I’ve got to be honest, this washes over me at this point as I’m still so happy with my time.  I’m soon grumbling though when I realise he is of course correct (it’s Kenny, he genuinely knows everything) and I have to make my way, gammy foot and all, on a new adventure that requires a map and compass to try and find the bus.

Back at the car and my smile comes back.  It’s thankfully not a long journey home but my daughters had a hard day and falls asleep – so I take a photo of her.  That’s one for her 18th! 


At home after I’m changed and showered I phone my mum to check she’s ok.  It was an early morning start for her and she hasn’t been too well recently.  I’m so glad she made it though.  My dad had planned on being there too but he was babysitting my nephew.  

It’s most likely one I would do again.  I love the thought that I was there for the very first one – and the medal says that too, it’s a nice touch.  

Now.  On to the small matter of this Half Ironman…..

Yes I did wear my finisher tshirt to work the next day.

Yeah I Did!

Drum roll please……

In fact forget the drum roll I want a great big massive Mexican wave spanning countries and countries, flags waving, children clapping, streams of coloured paper in the air – get it done!

Basically I just completed my FIRST EVER open water swim. 

Now you can understand the celebrations!

It’s just under 7 weeks to the Edinburgh Half Ironman and I knew I needed to get past this mile stone so headed down to the nearest organised open water swimming (safety first after all, can’t just go jumping in the local river!).

Time was tight and we didn’t get there until after the session had started but that didn’t really matter. I wasn’t convinced I would be able to force myself to properly swim anyway so was going with the intention of maybe getting about 50m along the front – possibly.  

We changed in to our wet suits and headed down where we saw Brian on his bike.  Stopped for a little chat and as Joe went to put his swim cap on….it broke.  He headed back to see if he could locate a spare.  Standing at the side of the Loch trying desperately not to look like I didn’t belong there I waded very slowly in.  Very slowly.  I waited for the water to start dribbling in and surprisingly it wasn’t as cold as expected.  I looked back at the shore and Joe still wasn’t back.  People were going off in dribs and drabs, it was very relaxed.  I was not.  

Right come on and you going do this?  No. Seriously? Man up! No, I will just wait for Joe.  Why? Isn’t that what I’m meant to do? What, you think he’s going to swim with you? You’re not fast enough.  Right fine!!! 

And I was off! I was actually off! Put my face in the water and went for it!!

I very quickly took my face out the water.

Oh My God I can’t see a thing!! Gasp gasp gasp!! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.  

But…. I’m still going.  Yes, I am still swimming.  Head for the huge yellow thing, it’s right there.  Deep breathe – intake of Loch water, choking, spluttering, BUT still swimming!

Round the yellow marker and on to the next one.  Still going.  Still can’t see a damn thing in the murky water, still not thinking about that, or what might be in here with me, including the massive pike the registration form ‘joked’ about.  Still swimming.

I get back to the shore and pause my watch (if it’s not on Strava it doesn’t count after all).  Holy crap I’ve just swam in that Loch! I was ecstatic! It might have been beyond slow – although I didn’t really get over taken – but it was a swim.  Joe was back and had located another swim cap so we headed back in so he could do his first loop and I could do another.  I waited for him to go first before going again.  

A lot less gasping this time but still struggled to put my face in the water however, still got round.  Again.  This time my hand brushed some weeds but I was surprisingly calm.  Didn’t panic at all.  It was weeds.  I am telling myself it was weeds.  Nothing else.

I managed one more loop before time was up.  On the last loop I got grabbed a few times and had to handle a crowded turning but I was fine.  I did it.

Back at the van and I was straight on the phone to Ben who has given me a few swimming sessions.  ‘I didn’t die!!!’ Was my message.  ‘Woo! Gold star for you’ was the reply ha ha.

So it’s done! Milestone achieved, level unlocked, nappy changed!  Can’t wait to go back and do it again.  I’m genuinely shocked at how much it didn’t kill me.  Don’t get me wrong it was far from perfect and it was only about 1000yards but it wasn’t as slow as it felt.  I was only a few seconds off my standard swim time.  That was a shocker.

So.  More swimming to get more used to it (but I didn’t die!).  Marathon this weekend.  Then focusing on the final weeks of training. 

I’m still excited about this:)

Shadys Back

I am desperately trying to think of a positive start to this entry but, I can’t.
So the above will have to do.
Truth is, the anxiety seems to be back. I say seems, let’s be honest, it is back. I am managing to use coping techniques quite well but one of the problems it is giving me is trying to keep up with the training for the Stirling Marathon and the Half-Ironman. It’s kind of hard to force myself out the door when all I want to do is curl up in bed and stay there until the next day. Swap a running marathon for a Netflix marathon and the physical Ironman for the Marvel Ironman and that right now is the easier option.

But is that really what I want? Sometimes. 

They say endurance events aren’t achieved on the day but in training. The race itself is your victory lap. Well I tell you, right now, if I make it to that finish line, I will be amazed. 

I watched ‘400 meters’ on Netflix last week. A man diagnosed with MS decides to do a Full Ironman (not a half!) having never done anything like that before. He has several set backs, a father in law that isn’t too dis-similar from my own dad, and a determination to rival Donald Trump. I keep thinking he found the strength to keep going – and again, to do a Full Ironman – what’s stopping me? 

I haven’t ‘lost my mojo’. Genuinely hate that saying. I still love running, miss it if for some insane reason it’s been more than 2 days since we last met. I am very slowly getting more confident on the bike and the swimming isn’t that much of a chore. It’s just my mind. There are less and less ‘happy thoughts’. Thursday took me by surprise. It was bring your child to work day so I had my daughter with me. I thought she would be with me the entire day but I had to drop her off in a room that felt it contained half the population of the human race. She was fine. I was not. It took my greatest strength not to go back in, grab her hand and take her to my desk with me. Literally the only thing stopping me was the embarrassment I would cause her. I spent 20 minutes alone in a room trying to calm down. It worked though. Breathing techniques don’t get the credit they are due. And later that day when a friend of mine came in she presented me with a surprise gift she had made. It was a box frame with photos of me running and ‘Live, Love, RUN’ written on it. The tears turned to happy tears then – and she hadn’t even known it was a bad day!


I had the next Championship race that night and, as the day had been that bad, I asked Joe to pace me. I had asked him a few days earlier, just for something different. I have never really ran with a pacer and he has never paced someone – could have been tragic! On the day though it didn’t really end up being about time but more just about having someone there as a distraction. You never know what ‘could have’ happened and is there any point in thinking about it? Could I have ran just as fast or even faster? I don’t know. What I do know is that it was nice and it worked. I was distracted. It gave me a little more positivity back. And I used the gift my friend had given me as a reminder of me how much better I feel when I am running. So I rocked up to the start line instead of pressing ‘play’ on the next episode of Designated Survivor. (It’s recorded though so it’s ok!).
And so I have decided I need that little something extra to push myself. Something I can focus on when I’m thinking ‘nah, just skip it, back to bed – retreat, retreat, retreat’. I contacted SAMH (Scottish Association for Mental Health) and I am now going to try and raise a little money for them by getting to the start line – the finish line will come later. Some of the coping techniques I have been given truly work for me and there are days I wouldn’t be able to do my day job without them. So why not say thank you? 

If it hadn’t been for people like them, the support I have received and discovering running I would still be locked away in my house, rarely leaving, unlikely to still be holding down a job, and not being an ‘ok’ mum. (I won’t claim to be the best mother in the world, I forgot it was my eldest last ever day at school yesterday!).  

This post may not have started very positive but it’s my nod to my issues to say ‘yeah, you’re still there, you might still knock me down, but I CAN get back up’.

(How bad will it be if I don’t manage this now? Ha ha).

The link for my fundraising – https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Ella-Webley2

Sunday – No Race Day

It seems every man and his dog were running in a race today.  That is, except me.

Very unusual.

I may have mentioned it before but I really, really, really want to do the London Marathon but never got in through the ballot for this year.  There’s many reasons I want London but I won’t go into that just now.  So no, I wasn’t running London today.  

I also wasn’t running the Edinburgh 10 mile race.  Mainly because I didn’t really fancy it if I’m honest.  I’ve raced 2 ten mile road races recently, didn’t need another.  Also there was a Running Sisters 5k I did not opt for. And lastly, there was the Balfron 10k race today.  Another one I didn’t run.

But……Joe did.  And my #originalrunningbuddy Frazer, who also brought a friend Tristan, ran it too.  (Yes I did just use a hashtag).  

I was tempted, but I enjoy chasing round the course cheering people on and getting photos.  So I was Sherpa Ella for a change.  It also meant I could keep an eye on the London Marathon tracker as there were a few from the Road Runners who were in it and a couple of friends too.  It’s quite exciting watching it and realising they are running over Tower Bridge right now! (Even if I am insanely jealous of each and every one of those Runners.  Jealousy isn’t always a bad thing though.  And It WILL be me one day!).

I had an uncomfortable night last night so I was glad for the sun and an excuse for sunglasses to cover it up.  It wasn’t hot though and there was a chill in the air – good running conditions really.  Car packed and we were off, meeting Frazer there as logistically it made sense (so I’m told, geography still means nothing to me).  We found the place easy enough and were able to park with ease.  No ‘air line steward’ Marshall here but still friendly.  A short walk up the hill to registration and a wait for Frazer.


Hmm.  Lots of hills here.  Thought it was flat? I had told Joe it was flat.  And I thought Frazer had said it was flat.  Might have got this wrong.  I kept my eye out for any Perth Road Runners as I was sure someone had said there were a few running it.  Unfortunately with a 3 year old running circles round the gym hall it was impossible to look for anything – including my sanity.


Once they were off I knew I had about 40 minutes so we headed back to the car to get food for the hungriest little boy in Scotland.   His favourite saying is ‘I’m sooooo hungry’.  Again.  My sanity.  Slowly slipping away.  I made a cup of tea for my daughter and myself and checked the London app.  Everyone was going strong.  

We walked slowly back up to the finish and waited at a great spot with a cordoned in grassy area just before the very last corner. I was able to see everyone coming in long before I needed to get my camera ready.  I was at the top of a hill afterall – of the ‘flat’ course, whoops.  The first few Runners started coming in and I gave myself a good pat on the back for timing it so well.  I got this!  Joe came in quite near the front and I got some good photos.  It was an out and back route and he said he had spotted a Road Runner with rose tattoos – Steph.  Frazers friend Tristan was next to come in quite impressively in about 45 minutes.  Then Frazer who smashed his time from last year quickly followed by Steph.  I got photos of them all being the great photographer I am haha.  (In other words I was shouting so loud people moved out the way out of fear more than anything ha ha).



Back home I continued to be glued to the London tracker and I was reminded of just how difficult running can be.  One guy from the club was running and he ran the Boston Marathon just 6 days ago! A few I follow on instagram were also running, one was flying through and the other wasn’t having the best run of their life, but they were both doing it.  I saw posts from many in the Run Mummy Run community saying members names who were struggling and could we post comments to encourage them.  26.2 miles is hard.  I don’t care who you are or what you’re experience is it’s bloody hard!  And the toughest people, the ones I respect and admire the most, are the ones who are big enough to admit that.  Not make excuses.  But admit it is hard.

I probably should have gone out for a run but I’m a bit wary of my hips at the moment.  I did 30 miles on the bike yesterday and got to 25 miles before they started screaming which is good progress.  To be honest though, the combination of being attached to the London tracker and having a dip last night made me stay in.  Joe said to me it’s fine to have a day you do nothing.  And yeah I guess it is.  The fear is that that one day turns in to two, then three, and four.  I won’t let that happen though.  I can’t.

I’m going to write my plan for the week.  I’m going to speak to those who ran over the weekend and remind myself why I run.   I have my daughter joining me at work on Thursday and she’s coming to yoga.  I need to set a good example for her.  I won’t let last night turn in to anything.  

So it’s hats off to each and every runner this weekend – regardless of time, pace, or even if you finished.  I loved being a spectator for a change and I’m sure I will be doing it again soon.

4 weeks until Stirling Marathon.

10 weeks until Ironman 70.3.