Thank you to everyone who came to my Macmillan World Biggest Coffee Morning today.  We raised over £600.

Last Sunday was the East Grinstead 10k.  I have done this race in the past and have always come in second from last, hotly pursued by Little Trevor of course.  Little Trevor wasn’t running this year and I was particularly keen to see whether all my training had paid off.  Husband Trevor was off on some obscenely LONG RUN that day so I hitched a lift in Little Trevor’s blue Polo.  It was nice to spend some time with him being driven down the A22 at break neck speed.  I  realised that this was partly caused by his inability to see over the steering wheel.  As usual there were lots of superb athletic specimens on the start line.  Many were running around the playing field to warm up.  I knew that if I did that I would be so exhausted I wouldn’t finish the race.  I got chatting to a lovely 80 year old lady as I lurked about at the back.  She said that she was a very slow runner and just enjoyed taking in the scenery on these runs.  ‘ Mmmmm’ I thought ‘I have chance of beating her.’  Sadly she shot off like a greyhound at the start and I only caught up with her when she slowed down to tell a fellow runner that she was in training for her 5th London Marathon.  My ‘Octogenarian Elite Athlete’ warning system was activated and I resigned myself to being last.  At one point the race goes down the Worth Way to a turning point then the runners come back the same way.  I was gutted to notice that before I had even huffed and puffed onto this section runners were coming back!  Soon I settled into my usual mode, completely on my own trying to think about anything but running whilst running.  As it was a race I did put in a bit of extra effort and noticed that a few ‘Weightwatchers new recruits’ were actually behind me.  I made sure they stayed there and I finished 8th from last.  Brilliant!  Little Trevor was on the finishing line yelling ‘Come on Runner Bean’ and leaping up and down so much he looked normal height for a few fleeting nano seconds.  This spurred me on and I did a pretty good sprint finish.  As usual he made lots of positive comments about me being 5 minutes faster than last year and he failed to point out that, according to his clipboard, I was 12 minutes slower than the next Lingfield runner.  That is why I love him.

I am holding a World’s Biggest Coffee morning for Macmillan Cancer Support on Friday 27th September 9.30am to 12.30pm at The Victoria Club, High Street, Lingfield.  Do please join me for yummy homemade cakes, stalls and more…

There is only one thing worse than LONG runs and that is VERY LONG runs.  My datum has certainly shifted.  A few months ago I baulked at the thought of running  3 miles.  Now I think, ‘Oh good 13 down only 4 to go!’  Last week I did my VERY LONG run along Forest Way, a former railway line which goes from East Grinstead to Groombridge which, I would like to point out, is in the next county, Kent.  Yes I am now going international with my running.  Forest Way is great.  It is very flat, traffic free and straight. The downside is it is interminably boring.  Mile after mile of leafy former railway lines and embankments.  In fact the scenery was so monotonous I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. When  a route involves running to a specific point and then retracing my steps  I keep thinking ‘Oh God have I got come back ALLLL the way along here?!’  Husband and Toby, the Pointer, came along for moral support but both of then soon tired of trying to keep down (the opposite of keep up) with me.  At the 14 mile point I had had it.  My back crippled me, blood was oozing out of a blister on my foot and I was soaked to my goose pimpled blotchy skin.  ‘Shall I just sprint the next 3 miles and pick up the car and collect you?’ Husband said helpfully.  I actually think he was getting worried that we might struggle to get home in daylight at this speed.  ‘No!’  I exclaimed ‘I WILL WALK IT!’  And so I did, on my own, mile after bloody boring mile of fern fringed track.  I did the usual calculation of how long the New York Marathon would take me at this speed but the stats were so depressing I might have thrown myself off a railway bridge if I had spotted one at that moment.  By the time I got back to the start point Husband and dog were all cosy in the cafe having had tea and bacon sandwiches and read the Sunday Times from cover to cover.  In the absence of any horse strength tranquilisers to numb my aching joints I settled for a bacon sandwich and four flapjacks…

Husband has got the most seriously disgusting toe nails.  They are black and deformed.  Sometimes when I catch a glimpse of them as we get into bed I am tempted to run off to the spare room.  His ‘Fungi Feet’ as I call them, have always been at source of morbid curiosity to me, like something you might see pickled in a jar in the science lab at school.  The problem is I now have them.  I could claim that I caught them off him like Mumps or Measles but the truth is they are Runner’s feet.  I once Googled ‘Runners black toe nails’ and it appears this is a very common complaint, so I guess I should wear them like a badge of honour.  ‘I must be a proper runner now I have these gross mutant appendages.’  However the deformities don’t stop there.   I also have the most enormous lumps of hard skin dotted around my hooves. They are like giant carbuncles which have ruled out any strappy sandals for the whole of the summer.  Apparently as a distance runner you must not get them removed as they are grow to protect you from the impact of putting your feet down about 80 times per minute for hours on end. There is absolutely no way I could I could go for a pedicure now without requesting a  particularly strong stomached beautician in advance who won’t gag when I remove my shoes.  Oh the joys of running.  Thank God black nail varnish is still in.

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb

The other evening a friend of mine suggested that I went for a sports massage after I complained about tender tendons and aching hamstrings. ‘What a wonderful idea’ I thought. ‘ I can class that as marathon training without doing any running’.  I booked an appointment at Lingfield Osteopathic Clinic with a nice sounding young man called Adam.  I had a massage once before on a Hen weekend.   A pretty lady in a pastel uniform had pummelled me gently in a room filled with scented candles and soft music as I drifted in and out of consciousness for an hour.

Adam was a nice, fit young man, just as I had imagined.  He ushered me into a treatment room and asked all the usual questions about exercise and injuries etc.  ‘Pop on the couch’ he said.  I did willingly, just getting ready for an hour’s relaxation in the middle of a busy day…  ‘You do know this is going to Hurt don’t you?’  He asked with a sadistic grin. ‘Hurt??’  I was about to have a quick snooze.  Then he started… I have never experienced such agony, well not since childbirth. He poked, pummelled and squeezed my legs as I literally howled in pain and let out more than a few swear words. ‘Is this room sound proofed?’ I screamed as he attacked my iliotibial bands with vigour.  Crikey, the pain was so intense I ended up with my fist in my mouth. ‘What on earth will that Old Dear in the waiting room think when she hears this?  I sure hope she picks up her stick and hobbles off before she is subjected to such torture.’ At one point I burst into hysterical laughter.  ‘That’s an unusual reaction’ grinned satanic Adam.  Well actually, considering I was about to punch him in the face and leap off the couch it seemed pretty tame to me.  Finally the hour was up…  I could hardly walk out of the treatment room, and when I did, my red and puffy face was stared at by at least 5 senior citizens in the corridor waiting for the chiropodist. ‘That’ll be £45’ said the efficient receptionist. As I wrote the cheque I was most relieved to learn that Adam’s last name was ‘Hooker’.  I had been muttering something that rhymed quite closely with that for the last hour.  ‘Do you want to book again?’… Well I did, for two week’s time, as I mumbled ‘no gain without pain.’

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb

A-List School Run Mum

Hairy Male Teenager has gone back to school this week and I have remembered how traumatic the school run is.  Firstly I spend 15 minutes trying to get him out of bed,  I then cook him breakfast and spend a further 20 minutes standing over it to stop the dogs eating it, then I spend a further 25 minutes standing in the hall, car keys in hand shouting ‘Morgan, Hurry up! MORGAN HURRY UP! MORGAN SOD THE BLOODY HAIR GEL AND GET IN THE CAR!’  Son goes to Lingfield Notre Dame, however I do not qualify as an ‘A-List Notre Dame Mum.’  I wear sunglasses but they do not cover 3/4 of my face, I have blonde hair but it is not in an immaculate bob, I drive a 4 x 4, but it is not white.  The reason I wear sunglasses at 8.00am in winter is to hide the fact that I haven’t even washed yet.

The School has a ‘Kiss and Drop’ policy in the car park in the mornings.  This does not mean that you kiss your child then literally drop them out of the side window, although I have seen this being done a couple of times…  No, you are meant to park appropriately, kiss your offspring then move off slowly.  The problem with this practice is that you end up with a bottle neck of 4 x 4s at a particular point.  Here  ‘A-List Mums’ do not let any other vehicles into the queue, they hold the steering wheel with both hands, avoid any eye contact (the sunglasses help) and they nudge forward at any cost.  I cannot take part in this so I helpfully let everyone into the queue and spend 45 minutes getting out of the car park.  I am not being altruistic at all.  Usually at this time of the day I am still in my pyjamas and Daughter’s Ugg boots so I have to avoid any collisions which might involve me having to leap out of the car in this attire.  My longest school run this week  (it’s only one mile) was 1 hour 23 minutes.

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb

Accordingly to my amazingly wonderful NikePlus sports watch I ran 102 miles in August whereas the average for women my age was 24 miles.  Fortunately my watch fails to point out that most women my age would have walked the 102 mile faster than I ran it, however I still feel pretty pleased with myself.  I only have 9 weeks now until the Big Day and I can honestly say if I had know how hard the training was going to be all those months ago I wouldn’t have signed up to it.  The training is gruelling but also so time consuming.  I am spending about 7 hours a week running which is a lot to fit in around work, home, dogs, children and Husband.

The worst part of the whole week is the LONG RUN.  Yesterday I ran for 3 hours 15 minutes and only ran 15 miles. So it is going to take me well over 6 hours to run the New York Marathon.  ‘Will the roads have re-opened by then?  Will I be dodging yellow cabs for the last 5 miles?’  I have an absurdly long time to ponder these things whilst running as it is a very solitary pursuit for me, anyway.  I cannot possibly ask anyone from the running club to endure running like a snail for 3 hours so I just have to do it on my own.  I often have the most amazing thoughts, theories and ideas whilst huffing around the Surrey countryside.  Yesterday I was trying to calculate whether a 1% increase in gradient resulted in 1% drop in my speed.  I was never very good at Maths so I gave up trying to work this out after 1 hour 45 minutes.  However there is one bit of joy in the long runs.  I have trained Husband to drive along my route at hourly intervals with water for me.  I never love Husband more than when I see his shiny black car appear.  Firstly, I know I have done another hour and secondly there will be a brief interlude for water and company before I set off again.  Yesterday after 12 miles I was so pleased to see him that I almost dived through the passenger window to give him a hug, but thought better of it just in case I got stuck.  By that point I was in agony, with blistered feet  and sweat dripping off my sunglasses. ‘I can’t do this, I CAN’T DO THIS’ I cried, gulping my water. ‘Bean, you never give up’ he simply said, and drove off at top speed.  At that moment I had never hated Husband more. If I had had the energy I would have run after him and kicked his rear bumper.  Moments later I composed myself and thought ‘Yes, the Bugger’s right’ and on I went.

When I finally staggered home there was a rare domestic scene in the kitchen.  Husband was cooking the dinner and Hairy Male Teenager was laying the table.  Perhaps the long runs are worth it after all…

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebbd

Last Thursday was, quite frankly one of my worst running club experiences.  At 6.45pm I was looking forward to a slow plod round Lingfield with my running club pals as I hadn’t seen them since my holiday.  I ambled up to the club for a 7pm start in anticipation of a chummy coffee morning natter whilst running.  How wrong I was.  Ultra Marathon runner Eddie was there.  Eddie is 30 something, slim, blond, pretty and a serious ’50 mile before breakfast’ runner.  She cheerily suggested that we should all run to the park in Dormansland and do some ‘uphill training’.  ‘Run to the park’,  I was astounded.  It is at least 2 miles.  I tried to hail a taxi and failed so ended up running to the park as fast as I could, and only about 1/2 a mile behind the other ladies.  When I arrived about 30 minutes later in a state of near cardiac arrest the others were already adopting strange squatting positions.  Oh please, this was not what I envisaged for a sunny Thursday evening.  Little Trevor was looking on enthusiastically as all his protégées leapt up and down in Lycra.  I spotted a garden gate in the hedge and momentarily considered sneaking through it and sitting in someone’s back garden until this hideousness was over.  ‘Come on girls let’s do burpees’ Eddie shouted.  It became apparent that a ‘burpee’ was a kind of  squat with turned into a leaping frog action with great speed.  ‘Come on girls let’s now run up to the SECOND oak tree as fast as we can then back down’.  SECOND OAK TREE!  I needed my glasses to see it.  I plodded up the path begrudgingly and was over taken at least 3 times by Eddie on her 3rd lap.  ‘Thank God for that’ I muttered when I had eventually staggered back down.  Then I heard  ‘We will just repeat this all twice now…’  I could not believe that someone so pretty and smiley could actually be a sadistic army PT instructor in disguise. How misleading appearances can be.  I grimaced and groaned through another half an hour of torture then Eddie said we could all sprint back to Lingfield. No way.  I got a lift back in Little Trevor’s blue Polo and decided there and then to avoid all Thursday nights at running club.
I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb

Over the last few years family holidays have become  progressively less relaxing.  No sooner have I unpacked the suitcases and slipped into a kaftan and sunglasses when the teenage moaning starts, ‘I am bored, I Am Bored, I AM SO BORED!’  This results in Husband spending the next 7 days on a tennis court in 40 degree heat pretending to be Andy Murray in an attempt to keep Hairy Male Teenager amused.  My week is equally exhausting with nightly trips to God awful nights clubs with teenage daughter.  I am at the bar being chatted up by some suntanned prune who runs the local cafe, and daughter is bopping on the dance floor with a greasy waiter in skin tight black trousers from the local 2 star hotel.  Worst of all these evenings don’t start until way past my bedtime.  The stress of keeping wrinkled prune off me and  2 star waiter off my daughter is more tiring than a 15 mile LONG RUN.

Last year we had a week in Majorca and I did manage a few hours by the pool on the first day.  ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ had just come out so I bought the trilogy at the airport for my Holiday Read.  I was a bit embarrassed to be seen reading this particular sex fest so I concealed it in a copy of ‘Homes and Gardens’ as I chilled out.  I soon realised that there were an awful lot of British ladies who were studying copies of ‘Hello!’ magazine without turning the pages.  They too would wiggle their legs and flush sporadically even though the sun had gone in.   A trip to the pool bar via the back of the sun loungers confirmed my suspicions.  They were ALL reading ‘Fifty Shades’.  I struck up a conversation with a ‘Fifty Shader’, then another, and we all giggled like naughty school girls.  ‘Come on girls let’s get’em out!’ I shouted the next morning by the pool. This comment generated much interest from accompanying bored Husbands. In unison we all dropped our magazine disguises and spent the rest of the week with our ‘Fifty Shades’ held high.

This year I sat by the hotel pool reading the ‘Time Out Guide to New York’ which was far more informative and the only time I turned red was when I got sunburnt…

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb

‘My Goodnish Jayne you av lost weight!’ exclaimed Linda, my Hungarian cleaner, on Tuesday. It was the best news I had heard week but sadly it wasn’t true.  I have actually put on 5lb since I started my training.  I have really made a conscious effort to eat better than usual; porridge for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch and a home cooked evening meal.  Previously I survived on Costa chocolate twists and toast with peanut butter until dinner.  I think there are two problems.  Firstly portion size,  I feel incredibly hungry ALL OF THE TIME, even in the middle of the night, and secondly I usually decline crisps, nuts and biscuits in a vague attempt to keep normal sized. These days I am constantly raiding the sweetie tin justifying my extra calorie intake with an ‘Oh well I am training for a Marathon.’

I know all about the ‘Muscle Weighs More than Fat’ theory however it just doesn’t work for me.  I am far too self-doubting to look in a mirror and think ‘My, I am getting more slender.’  I need factual evidence and that can only be provided by the bathroom scales.

The depressing thing is that one of my main reasons for embarking on this feat was to lose weight. I had a romantic image of me arriving at JFK in November as a Nike-clad size 10, nodding knowingly at all the other elite athletes in the baggage hall.  At this rate I am going to have to ask for a seat belt extension or even worse buy an additional plane seat.

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb

I have read DD cupfuls of articles on the merits of the right sports bra.  As with running shoes I didn’t realise that there was so much technology in such a simple item.  Apparently your boobs rotate in a figure of 8 fashion when you run so without full support you will soon end up with them swinging at your knees.  I adopt ‘trussed chicken’ mode with a Berlei Shock Absorber.  Its seems to do the trick as so far I have not had any personal injuries claims from passers-by.

Apart from the luxury of a good bra and shoes I have spent little money on my running kit.  I am more Sports Direct than Sweaty Betty.  The main reason for this is that I would feel such a twit wearing the latest designer gear and crossing the finishing line last at every race.  I know too many Yummy Mummies who buy the latest £300 Wilson rackets, go to the  tennis club, then miss every ball.  They are the same ones that go to the local health club in Prada lycra then sit in the cafe all day drinking lattes.

I am running the New York Marathon 2013 for Macmillan Cancer Support. If you are enjoying reading my blogs please donate at: http://www.justgiving.com/jayneandtrevorwebb