Runs, sons and burger buns

With less resistance than I anticipated, given the notable lack of enthusiasm when I first raised the idea, the four of us set off to Kempton Park racecourse to take part in a 5k inflatable obstacle course race.

James and our eldest son, Ollie (16), much prefer pumping iron to running. But because I’ve signed up to at least one event per month this year, on account of turning fifty in October, they put their fears of catabolism to one side and agreed to join me.

I’ve never even been to a racecourse before, let alone run around one whilst intermittently tackling fifteen enormous inflatables: mountains to climb, spiders’ webs to navigate, tubes to crawl through and swinging balls to dodge: great fun. One particular slide with a steep, stepped descent had us juddering down on our backsides like John going uphill in the Grand Tour Mongolian special (27 seconds in). (Incidentally, if I did ever get Clarkson’s job I think I’d have to pick and choose which episodes to take part in: I’d definitely give that one a miss, although the scenery was beyond breathtaking).

Anyway, we decided ahead of time that we’d have a McDonalds on the way home, because, balance. And protein. I was careful how I pitched this because I don’t think of food in terms of a reward for exercising, and it’s certainly not a message I want to relay to the boys. But our wave set off at 1pm and none of us had eaten since breakfast so, being an hour from home, it seemed like a good refuelling option.

Here we are at the start. I think I’ve invented a new bodybuilding pose. I was going for ‘front double biceps’, but hadn’t quite got into position in time.

Tomorrow will see me in the garage gym for leg day (box squats, Bulgarian split squats, Romanian deadlifts, weighted planks). Closely followed by birthday lunch at Zizzi for Tom who will, astonishingly, be turning 14. I was buying his cake in Waitrose earlier and bumped into a friend who said “I’ve just been reading your blog”. Thank you, Abi.

March hares

To complete our March 50k virtual running challenge we opted for a change of scene. Rather than running around the residential streets of our ‘hood, we parked outside Winchester and ran the beautiful, well-trodden, reasonably flat path into the city centre and back: 7k in total: we needed eight to reach our target distance, but I figured I’d cross that bridge near the end of the route.

We set off at a gentle pace winding our way alongside the River Itchen, out past St Catherine’s Hill, through the Cathedral grounds and onto the High Street (this introduced an element of slalom as we dodged the dilly-dallying shoppers browsing the market stalls). Then past King Alfred’s statue and through the park alongside the river to re-join the outward route. It was getting to be quite hard work for Tom whose legs started to feel tired. It was a beautifully mild spring day, and 40 minutes of running had us both and hot and bothered. By the time we passed St Catherine’s for the second time, just as I was considering how to tell Tom about our 1k shortfall and the subsequent need, as we were tantalisingly close to the car, to double back for half a km then rerun the same half a km, he asked through laboured breathing “so when we get to the car that’s 8k?”.

He took it well and I gave him the option of running that final kilometre the next day (31st) instead but no, he chose to grit his teeth and push on. When I know he’s at the edge of his running comfort zone I always give him a choice about whether to carry on, whilst also reassuring him that I absolutely know he can. I also make it clear that I would never ask him to do more than I thought he was capable of: I think it’s really important for him to feel he has some control, and it’s empowering for him to choose to keep going. If I can tell he’s really had enough we’ll stop and pat ourselves on the back.

Once he realised we had a little more to do, at about 7.5k he said he’d like to run 8.4k, to beat his previous longest distance of 8.3k. I don’t generally lie to my children, but I knew he had a little more fuel in the tank and having a touch of OCD I decided that 9k would be a fabulous goal. I didn’t tell him this because I could tell he was digging deep and just wanted it to be over. On the first half of our extra km I’d sneaked a peek of a track off to the right: a long straight, with a slight downhill slope and some white gates in the far distance. I figured it would make a perfect end to our run with a visual “finish line”, and take us to 9k. As we approached this path on the way back to the car I said “right,  I reckon if we run down there to those white gates in the distance we’ll have reached our 50km March goal, but if you want we can just run back to the car, which would also do it”. The determination and resilience he’s been unwittingly building since we started running six weeks ago paid off. Without so much as a wince he said “let’s do it”. During the last few hundred yards we picked up the pace and then as my Garmin buzzed the end of that split, just after the gates, I turned to Tom, who still thought we were doing 8.4k, and said “you’ve just run 9k”. A sweaty, breath-catching hug followed as smiling passers-by moved to the edge of the path to give our wobbly bodies some space.

Those last couple of kilometres were tough and I know that Tom gave his all. Recently as a family we had watched a motivational speech by Arnold Schwarzenegger, my husband’s bodybuilding hero. In it, Arnie talks about Muhammad Ali’s famous sit ups quote . I used that quote to coach Tom through the last third of our run, telling him that this is the bit that will grow his resilience, his fitness, his mental game, his ‘I can’ attitude. I told him that six weeks ago a 3k was tough, but it now feels like a warm up. A month ago a 5k was as challenging as this 9k, but he wouldn’t think twice about whether he can just go out and run 5k now. I couldn’t be more proud of him: 13 years old and making the transition from being pretty sedentary to a determined and dedicated runner. Incidentally, that last split was our fastest, by twenty seconds.

Now, I used to be a proponent of the “no pain no gain/go hard or go home” mindset, but not any more. Doing what you can on any given day is good enough. However, you can’t get away from the fact that it’s largely in the struggle where the real growth happens.

“I don’t count my sit-ups. I only start counting when it starts hurting. When I feel pain, that’s when I start counting, because that’s when it really counts.”

Muhammad Ali

Runs with son

February was so grim. Tom (13) was hating school and every morning was a gut-wrenching battle. Given my strong bias for action I had to do something. Keeping him at home wasn’t an option so instead I signed him up to the 7k virtual run I was doing. I figured that exercise/endorphins are a game changer for me when life isn’t all unicorns and rainbows, so I thought it was worth a try for him too. We did a few short jaunts and then the 7k, which he found really tough: we had to stop a few times, but we got it done.

We then signed up for another virtual run: 50k in March. We’ve done 2ks, 3ks, 4ks, 5ks and a 7k. We’ve run in the dark and in the rain and early on a weekend morning. We’ve run with snotty noses and headaches and whilst feeling crap. We got behind due to an enforced 6-day break because he was poorly. We’ve mostly run together, and sometimes with a local running club. One day he went off to do a 3k on his own (I had an extra 15k in the bag) and he ended up doing 8.3k. Just like that. No stopping. We’ve done 42k and we have two days left to crack out our final eight, which we’re going to do in one go.

Entering a virtual challenge forced us to drag each other out during March when we wouldn’t have otherwise bothered. And what a difference it has made. He’s now perfectly happy going off to school (new friendships have helped), and is of course fitter and faster. And most importantly he has his oh-so-special spark back.

Running helps build resilience and it’s so accessible. All you need is a pair of trainers and off you go. It’s much like life: put one foot in front of the other and keep going. And the other benefits shouldn’t be underestimated because fresh air, sunlight, Vitamin D and being in nature are generally always going to make you feel better. We’ll certainly carry on running together and in a few short weeks it will have become a habit.

I didn’t really think about our March challenge improving my running, but it has. This morning I did a 3k for speed and managed a sub five-minute 1k, which I’ve never done before. The credit for that has to go to Tom and his willingness to put his trust in me, and see our commitment through to completion 💙

Jeremy jobs and Mo the motivator

When I woke up this morning the thought of starting a blog was just about the furthest thing from my mind: in fact I’d go as far as to say that I’ve never considered writing a blog. Why would I?

But then, after I posted on Facebook about my son and our running challenge there followed a nudge from my lovely professional writer friend to suggest I start blogging (closely followed by other friends).

And just like that a seed was planted and “why would I?” was swiftly superseded by “why wouldn’t I?”. Having a strong bias for action, here I am, less than six hours later with a:

  • WordPress account
  • domain name
  • new Twitter handle (@effperfect)
  • Google sheet, mapping out ideas
  • first post written
  • moderate dose of imposter syndrome

But seriously, why not? When I was in my early teens I wanted to be a journalist (and a PE teacher  and, briefly, a social worker). If I could do any job in the world it would be Jeremy Vine’s: those who know me know I’m a bit of a superfan: the people he gets to meet, the stories he hears and has the privilege of re-telling, the breadth of discussions, the sensitivity, intelligence and wit he has crafted over the course of his career. Second choice: Jeremy Clarkson’s. I’m not so much a superfan of the man himself, but what a job description: travel, adventure, mates, cars, driving, tomfoolery. What’s not to love?

During my recent foray into adult education (Foundation Degree in Business, 2016) tutors’ assignment feedback often included a few lines about the quality of my writing (in a good way). My day job is in marketing, for a startup: again, the written word features strongly.

Then there’s the draw of starting over with something, learning new skills, developing my writing, getting to grips with the backend of blogging, all helping to keep the old grey matter ticking over.

And finally, I actually enjoy writing. For my personality type it can be a frustrating process of back and forth, getting hung up for forever and a day on the suitability of a single word, ruminating and refining until I wonder if the three -versions-ago draft was actually better. But ultimately writing feels like a tonic for my inner perfectionist. At some point, as with much of life, one just needs to hit the button and move on to the next thing. “Poo or get off the pot” as my husband likes to say. So in that respect, should nobody ever read my words, for me they’re still a cathartic antidote to the self-abuse that is perfectionism.

When I consider all this alongside my 8+ year mission to develop my mental, physical and emotional health, I think I do have something worth sharing, and I suppose that’s what my friends were telling me. And if one middle-aged (or any aged – I’m not fussy) person reads my ramblings and connects with them in some way, well, that would be a very satisfying bonus.


Anyway, I’m going to give it a try.

Because I do love to get shit done.

And if you don’t try, you don’t know.