New Trainers!

On Sunday, when I'd sort of calmed down a bit from my triumphant and smug mood after my Big Long Run (8.3 miles) on Saturday, it finally occurred to me that I should go do something about my trainers.

I was in Harrogate to see Jem, and she was ready to test out her injured knee with a gentle walk, so we went for a wander around the town centre. After a surprising visit to the fantastic library, where Jem ended up getting a henna pattern on her hand to celebrate Diwali, we made our way to the shops, and found ourselves actually passing our favourite cookware shop with only a brief but longing glance at the mini Le Creuset dishes in the window. These places sell the paraphernalia that cookware fetishists like us crave (she's worse than me - she uses every utensil within reach even if she's making a bacon buttie - egg whisk, garlic press, at least 2 spatulas and a spud masher...), and even if we weren't buying, we would go for a quick perv, focussing on specialist equipment and fantasising about making rude, fabulous tasty stuff. We still both love cooking, but at least we're running off the results these days, so we hurried past and went straight to Up & Running.

I finally got my gait analysed, and in the process found that I am completely unable to run on a treadmill. Out there on the early morning roads, after a few miles I might be making weird noises and doing something that barely resembles running, but on a treadmill, I run like Phoebe, feet out to the sides, arms doing flapping movements to try and balance. How this could lead to an accurate view of my gait, I was very unsure, but apparently it's not where your feet go on the way down that matters, it's how they hit the ground, and it turns out I am a neutral runner. The very helpful assistant made recommendations for the type of support I might need for my heel pain, and listened to me telling him all about my Big Long Run the day before and how I'd practically killed my NB trainers since starting to run in them in February, having shrunk from 15stone to 12and a half. He looked at them and agreed they're dead. Then he brought me 3 pairs of suitable trainers and let me try them on. And these are the ones I chose:

Today I went out for the first time in my new trainers to get them warmed up for Sunday's 10k race in Scarborough . I only intended to do 10k, but once I had set off, I found it was such a gorgeous, cold and bright Autumn morning that I just wanted to keep going. Along the canal, despite feeling fine and enjoying the run, I found myself wishing that instead of running, that I'd gone up there with my camera to capture the golden misty light, the lances of sun striking into the mist through the orange leaves, the ducks and moorhens splashing in the misty patches on the water. There are some occasions when the 2 things I love so much cross over, and unfortunately they're incompatible. You can't take photos like that whilst actually running, and I had to remind myself that sights like that are also a reason why I love running, especially in the mornings. A good run or walk always throws up something beautiful and surprising. Yesterday, I saw a bloke carrying what I thought was his lunch in a bread bag, but I was proved wrong when he dipped into the bag and threw the contents in handfuls to the greedy ducks at Lock 6. Something about it made me smile, I'm not the only one who still loves to feed the ducks.

Just before the Kirkstall Marina, I asked myself what I wanted to do. Was I going to run straight down to Lock 1 at the canal basin, which would have been about 6.5miles, possibly run back up as far as I could? Was I going to run to the viaduct and run back up Kirkstall Road and get a bit of route practice for the Abbey Dash? What I heard coming out of my mouth as a reply (yes, I do talk out loud to myself when I'm running and there's no-one there to hear) was "I'm going to do what I did on Saturday," and that was my answer.

As I came toiling over the peak of the hill where Kirkstall Lane turns onto Morris Lane, a man getting out of a van saw me and asked if it was really worth it? I answered "2 stone off says it is!" and then I spent the remaining 30 minutes of the run kicking myself that I'd got my weight-loss wrong. It's 2 and a half stone at the moment, hopefully 3 by the end of November. Probably because I was thinking so much about this, I barely noticed the rest of the run, which means it was much easier than Saturday. I even made it back to the garden wall 7 seconds faster than last time.

My feet feel great, the trainers were really comfy and I can appreciate the difference good cushioning makes. I'm now set for the final 2 10ks of my 5 race challenge, and should be ok to get through the first few runs of the 200 Mile Macmillan Madness next year.