End of November.... Reckoning Time.

At the beginning of this year, when I started running again, I had few simple goals in mind. I wanted to run in 5 official races; I hoped to reach and be able to maintain a regular 10k run up to the end of November; I wanted to get healthy and lose some weight, and I wanted to raise some money for Macmillan.

So, how have I done?

Well, lets have little look shall we?

Races - In order, I ran:

Pants in the Park, 5k, 12th June

The Jane Tomlinson Leeds 10k, 19th June

Temple Newsam Cancer Research Race for Life, 25th June

Then there was a lapse, during which I sort of switched off.... and slowly got back to training, and got myself together for the

McCain Scarborough Yorkshire Coast 10k, 30th October

And then the Abbey Dash last weekend, which was always going to be the last one of the season for me.

Weight - Here's a photograph which chilled me to the bone when it was taken. I don't usually like pictures of myself, but this was the most terrifying I've ever seen. The occasion was Jem's 28th Birthday Party, in the first week of April. I was about 15 stone.

There are more. They're more graphic, but this is the one I hated most.

As usual, I've spent more time behind than in front of the camera this year, although I've seen myself in some of my business partner's shots where she's caught me at weddings and events, and I posted a couple of me as I am now after last week's Abbey Dash.

But it wouldn't be fair not to post one of how I look today, what with this being where I intended to finish the challenge.

I'm somewhere between 12stone and 12'6, at the lower end more often than not. My scales are temperamental, but they agree most days that I've lost the best part of 3 stone.

Distance - When it became apparent that 10k was not quite enough, and that I was wanting to run further in my training sessions, I adjusted my target to be to reach 10miles by the end of the season, and today, I've run 10.2miles. My speed has increased in the last few weeks, after discovering what amazing effects a few small changes can make, and improving my running form. Despite running most of the route against strong winds and uphill, my average speed today was 5.7mph. Until 2 weeks ago, it was closer to 5.3.

Sponsorship - I've been very chilled about the whole thing, and allowed people to contribute as and when they feel like it without much bothering at all, and I'm on just under £250. I think that's pretty good, but next year's project will deserve much more!

I am delighted. I've loved the whole thing this year, and can't wait for the 2012 challenge to start.

This time next year I'll be writing a blog entry looking back on a whole year of serious races. That thought is almost as exciting as the thought of running them all.

Run no 5: Abbey Dash 10k

The alarm went off at 7.30. I was awake, my mind in planning mode already. After a quick tidy around the house, a last minute bunging of stuff into my back-pack, and a cup of tea for Jem, we set off into town in the car along Burley Road, cloaked in a thick fog. Every so often, as we approached Leeds town centre, runners became visible, some with race numbers already pinned to their chests, some running, some walking. I began to get very excited. In fact, last night when Jem had picked me up from work and we'd driven home along Kirkstall Road, I nearly caused her to crash the car with my excited hand gesture, intake of breath and cry of "LOOK!" when I suddenly sighted the 5k sign outside Abbey House Museum (I must remember not to distract her when she's driving).

From the Art Gallery down, the Headrow belonged to runners - approximately 7000 of us - and I walked through columns of sprinters running in short circuits up and down by the Town Hall, clusters of people using every railing, statue and wall to bend knees and stretch legs out before I found Nell McAndrew leading the majority of the crowd in a mass warm-up. I joined them late, so got stuck into my own usual routine in a little corner.

With so many people taking part, they needed to organise us into categories of expected speed, so I walked back to the 60min flag, and joined a few seasoned veterans, and we talked about some of the long runs they've done, and how this race usually goes, the places you can edge ahead, and what to do with the hills. I discovered that it is poor etiquette to mention, when one is on the starting line, that one would like to go to the toilet. Apparently it was just nerves, but saying it is like yawning, and the urge is infectious.

Hundreds of people were ahead of us, and it took some time to get to the start line, but I saw Jem waving and blowing me a kiss just before I got there, so when the pace picked up and we crossed the line, I did it running and with a smile on my face.

Outside, as the course took us down onto Kirkstall Road, the temperature dropped and the fog seemed much thicker. I could barely see the sides of the road, and not much beyond a few feet ahead, and the footfalls and breathing of the runners around me sounded close and confined. We were running close together, not more than a pace apart sometimes, as everyone in the pack kept moving forward together in search of a space of their own. Fairly quickly, I found my spot, and was able to swerve and overtake every-so-often to find a more comfortable speed or space.

Not being able to see where I was turned out to be a good thing. I just ran. Strangely, I don't remember much, my memory is like the fog - images come floating out of it, then blend back into it. When the lead runners passed us, we cheered. At 5k there was a sign saying "WATER HERE", or something similar, and I decided not to bother. An ambulance came screaming down the line of runners along by the roadworks, and we all pulled over to the side, the unspoken feeling being that of knowing one of us was in trouble. I got angry when I noticed the Final Runner pace-car already had a long stream of slow moving and stationary vehicles lined up behind it, all with their engines revving, their exhaust pipes blowing pointless fumes out into the air we were breathing in vast gulps. We waved our hands in front of our faces to point this out, and made grimaces at the the drivers, but I don't think it helped. A car crossed the line of runners to climb up a side street that should have been cordoned off, and I was amazed at the selfishness. One man veered sharply to the edge of the raod ahead of me and vomited horribly, clearly overdoing something. A number 63 bus had managed to get out of the depot onto the road before the main pack even reached it, we all swerved around it, incredulous as to why it was there when the roads were closed.

Under the viaduct, the 8k mark caused a few tired runners around me to either slow their pace, or slow to a walk, and I heard encouragement for those flagging coming from their friends next to them. At that point I do remember realising that I had been happily running at a fairly fast pace, and that I didn't have far to go. Along the roadside, people had started to gather to cheer their runners on, and I heard shouts coming to the woman next to me. She asked them what time it was, and her people didn't understand, they thought she wanted her personal race time, which they didn't have. I didn't hear the rest of the exchange, or the time when they finally got the idea, and that annoyed me, but at the same time, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I'd left my phone with Jem, and had no idea of how things were going. The frequency of groups of cheering people along the pavement increased as we got closer to town, and I began to think of my Support Crew, hoping they'd found each other, and that I'd be able to see them, and I began to smile. I realised my glasses were steamed up as the fog cleared at the bottom of the Headrow, and put them back on my face just in time to see my parents' shining faces on the other side of the railings. I was beaming with pride, and waved 2 arms at them, bringing them down just in time to hear Jem yelling on the opposite side of the road, I blew a massive kiss to her, and heard her yelling as the finish line came into sight. Then I heard my big brother Dan's voice, and my sister-in-law Mim yelling and cheering, and my nephews shrilling away and I found one last burst of speed and got across the line. Dan came to the railings just after the line to say that the clock time was only 1hr 07mins, and he knew it had taken me a few mins to cross the line, so I already knew I'd probably beaten my PB. I accidentally swore in front of the boys, but in the circumstances I think I got away with it.

My Support Crew - Mim, Dan , Mum, Dad and my nephews the Large One and the Masked Boy Wonder. Jem's taking the photo, but she should be in it.

I collected a t-shirt (accidentally got the large one, when I could have done with a medium these days) and a bottle of Lucozade which Oldest Nephew decided he might like (until he didn't really), and we made our way to the war memorial to meet up with Mum, Dad and Jem. I enjoyed lots of lovely cuddles from everyone, did a few stretches, and put on some warmer clothes to avoid freezing up. We decided to go for a coffee, and the first cafe we found was Costa inside Waterstones on Albion Street. Desperate for a wee since the start line, I discovered I wasn't the first to have this idea, but that they use a code on the receipt to limit access to their loos. We decided to cheat, and waited to tailgate another runner as she went through, and then Jem and I waited while she did a quick change and emerged much more comfortable, and happier. I checked my phone and was ecstatic to read the text message from the race chip: Gun time 1:07:13. Chip time: 00:57:43. I did a quick lap of the cafe, telling my whole family, raving, surprised, delighted, and chuffed to bits at knocking 7 whole minutes off my last measured race time in Scarbrough, so when, as Jem and I got into the cubicle, my brother squeezed his way in too, I barely even noticed the raised eyebrows outside!

After a coffee and a bun, and lots of post-race nattering and cuddles, we all came back here for a hasty but tasty Sunday lunch, and now, after a bath, I'm finally getting chance to post.

I want to say thanks to everyone who has sponsored me, supported and encouraged me. I'm amazed at the progress I've made as a runner, and the vast improvement I've seen to my health, both physical and mental. I've lost nearly 3 stone since February, and it has improved every aspect of my life. I've poured myself into this challenge, in memory of Mim's sister Sadie, and I'm well and truly ready for the next one to continue raising funds for Macmillan. Chatting to one of the women next to me at the start-line this morning, the seed was sewn - I could even do a half marathon by March if I keep my training ticking over through the snowy months, so the 1st of December might mean that against all previous plans, my trainers won't get hung up for 2 months.

Here's a couple of photos of me in my Macmillan shirt. One is from the Jane Tomlinson 10k in June, and the other was taken today. The change is far from dramatic, and I've definitely still got fuel to burn, but I'm happy to see I'm approximately 80% of the woman I used to be.

With my little Mummy in June

Spot the large nephew, hiding...

This time next year.... the spare fuel tanks will have been streamlined and the grin will be even bigger!

Almost the end of the long slog....

What a difference new running gear makes!

I can think of no other explanation for the sudden increase in my pace for the same 9.2 mile run after a week of doing nothing.

I missed my Saturday morning long run because I woke up with a proper headache and really didn't fancy it. I also felt totally justified in having a break and a rest after months of training.

However, by Saturday night, when I realised I had absolutely none of the happy feelings that usually accompany thinking about running, I began to worry about whether my switch had just flipped to off at the worst possible time.

Even when I was buying a new running bra and some proper fitting running pants, I didn't feel the now customary pride and happiness of being a runner. This should have been a moment worthy of acknowledgement, because I've finally decided to buy proper kit, and not just make do with my old stuff. This means I am committed to running. My old running bra has been threatening to fall apart for the last few weeks, having survived 5 years, including several runs with the high pressure of 15 stone of bouncing boobs inside it. The tracky bottoms I've been in are also 5 years old - bought before my first ever 5k race, and largely un-fit-in-able until July this year, when I could only just squeeze into them... and on my first run in them the drawstring at the waist carved cuts into my stomach which have scarred. They needed hitching up on my last long run. But this was just .... stuff. I was not excited. Meanwhile, Jem was in raptures of happiness at buying her kit - tights and tops - because she's finally had the all clear to get back to training after her knee injury.

The last few days, while I've been waiting until my shift pattern allowed me to get out for a long one, have been a little anxious. What if I got to this morning and just felt... nothing? What if the urge had left me? I've only got to make it through the last 10k at the Abbey Dash on Sunday, and I'll have done what I set out to do. But what if I can't be bothered?

I allowed myself to wake up without an alarm this morning, and took my time getting ready. I was still fairly unsure as I pulled on my tight new shorts, and figured out there are no baggy side pockets for my keys and phone in these. Through my warm up, I still didn't feel like I was really going to go out. I did some last stretches out in the backyard, laced my back door key to my trainer, and ended up putting my phone in the little tiny pocket sewn above my right buttock. And I still didn't really know what I was going to do as I set off, but I knew as soon as I cleared the end of the street and saw a bright yellow Sun low on the horizon, rising into a clear cold white and blue sky that this was a good day to run.

I had the Runkeeper app on my phone and it was giving me readings every 5 mins, and it confirmed my suspicion that I'd set off a a fair old lick, much faster than I normally start out at - but I realised that although my breathing was fast, I wasn't uncomfortable, so I decided to keep it up as long as I could. I'd read a blog on myfitnesspal about running form - the correct positions to look for and how to get more out of your muscles - so I set my thumbs into the Fonz position, and swung my hands "from nip to hip", leaning slightly forward and throwing my feet out underneath my hands. And that took me all the way down the canal path. At the 30minute mark, the voice readout came up from my back pocket, and I was at the 5k mark. I was amazed, and grinning (I'm usually a 33-34 min 5k). The workmen who are rebuilding lock number 5 and have greeted me politely all week on my morning walks, shouted Hello to me as I passed, and I Morninged them back, and then when I heard the 45 mins call, I was almost at the canal basin, my half-way mark on this route - 4.56miles. The readouts kept telling me I was averaging 9mins and between 7 and 50 seconds per mile. That's far faster than usual. At the bridge, I turned on my heel and decided to see just how fast my 10k would be. With the Sun still low and rising behind me now, my long shadow was lurching slightly lopsidedly, infront of me and to my right as I turned the bend of the canal, and I noticed that the curve of my bum was totally ruined by the square phone shape - the first time I've ever noticed or been bothered about what I might look like on a run, and this thought kept me going for a while as I followed the shadow up the path. The 1hour readout came just as I got above the goit on the river, and it told me I had done 6.1 miles, so I pegged it (Yorkshire for ran as fast as I could) to the Kirkstall marina bridge, knowing my 10k would be about 61 minutes. It was - 4 minutes faster than at Scarborough. With a massive chuffed grin, I let myself relax to a comfortable jog, and at the 65 mins readout, the app voice told me I was still averaging 9mins 55secs per mile overall.

THAT last hill was hard, as it always is, but by that stage I was running on pure pride. When I turned the last corner into the back street I found 2 of my neighbours having a morning natter, and they yelled "Morning Caroline!'" to me as I wrestled the phone out of my back pocket to press stop on the app outside my back gate. I had a good catch up with them both (Yes, thank you! I have lost weight, and I feel great!) as I did a few stretches and warm down exercises. The screen said 1hour, 32mins, 50secs, 9.18 miles, 1145cals, average pace 10.07mph (but this changes when you upload it to the site, and when I checked the route, it thinks I've done something impossible and taken a weird detour along the canal basin, so I'll stick with what was on the phone when I got back).

I am not only very relieved that the switch hasn't flicked, and proud of myself for knocking so much time off, and now determined to do my 10 mile run before the end of November, with certain knowledge that I can not only do it, but do it well, but I am really really REALLY looking forward to Sunday morning and the Abbey Dash 10k. I ran on the route, but inside out, last week, starting from home, all the way to the Art Gallery and back, which is exactly 8 miles. I had been worried about the hill up from Kirkstall Road/ Wellington Street, to Burley Road/Headrow, but in practice, it's dead easy! I can't wait to be lined up at the Town Hall ready to go. And it's only 10k!

But the best thing will be passing the finish line, having finished the race, hopefully inside 64mins, and having completed my 5 race challenge. If all goes well, my parents, my brother, sister-in-law and nephews, and Jem will all be there to see me come in, and I have every expectation of bursting into happy, proud tears.

And a little bit longer...

http://runkeeper.com/user/Carolino/activity/58754393

It's the morning after Mischief night, the day of Bonfire Night. Typically, for this time of year in Leeds, I was woken up by the rain falling on the roof above where my bed is in the loft. I know I have changed the way I think about running because, seriously, I actually thought "Perfect day for a good long run." This is only the second time this year that I've been out for a run in the rain, the other time being for the Jane Tomlinson 10k, because generally, I can find an excuse not to go. This morning however, I checked outside and it had blown over for a bit - still damp on the ground, but not actually raining, and if I didn't go today, I would have to wait until Wednesday, and that is now unthinkable.

I took my time in getting out, making sure my new trainers were laced properly so my foot didn't get too tight like last week, and having an extra drink of water (I am not fond of the idea of carrying anything with me when I run - what if I fall over and my hands are full?). Being as how it was past 9am, I opened the living room curtains and I suspect some of the neighbours may have seen for the first time my not very elegant warm up routine. Then, most excitingly of all, I set up the Runkeeper app on my new phone. I am very new to smart phones, and I don't really care about flash features or anything. As I mentioned before, my new phone's great, but the stopwatch isn't, so all I needed was something that would time my run, but if it could tell me how far I've gone, and save me half an hour of tedious maths by telling me what my pace and speed were then so much the better. There's a few apps out there, but I thought I'd try Runkeeper.

And off I went, and to be honest it was not a very remarkable run. Wet underfoot, wet leaves on the ground, people with wet dogs, other wet runners. Straight down to the canal basin and back up again. I'm pleased to be able to say that 90% of the other runners I met smiled or nodded at me.

I couldn't check my time at Lock #1 at the basin, because I couldn't unlock my phone while I was running (clumsy fingers) and the app doesn't show on the locked screen, so I decided to just power on. I did check my rough time when I got to the 10k mark and was amazed to find I'd equalled my time last week, roughly 65mins, and so I kept on. I remember the first time I'd had an inkling that one day I'd run the whole 9mile route, back in summer, but I don't think I really thought I'd do it this year.

The only really tough bit was knowing THAT HILL was waiting for me at the end of it all, and there have been days where that would be enough and I'd slow to a walk at the bottom having given in again, but not today. I'd like to say I came striding comfortably up the last 200m, but that would be a lie. I was virtually crawling on 2 legs, but I did it. My new hero is the last runner from Scarborough. She's an inspiration.

As I collapsed onto the wall, I stopped the app, and couldn't believe the numbers. 1.39mins, 10.54min/mile. 9.2 miles.

Whoo-hoo!