How to run a 40 minute parkrun 5km.

I struggle, with running – and by that I don’t mean that some days I only have a 5 hour marathon in me, rather than a 4 hour one, or something like that; that’s not me. I’m no runner (says the girl who’s completed 4 half marathons). I mean sometimes I literally struggle to run. I run/walk in not much of a regular pattern, currently for every distance over about half a mile, although in the 2 years since I first started I’ve maybe ran 5km without walking just 5 or 6 times in total, and I think the furthest I’ve ran without a single walk break is 4 miles. Once. Those days feel a lifetime ago, at the moment, as my confidence and self-belief is at rock-bottom, but I’m definitely taking steps to build it back up again, and I know I have the support of some pretty amazing people too. I’ll get the hang of this running thing, eventually…

So why do it? Why continue to put myself through torturous 40 minute plods around the 5km distance? Well, it’s one of those funny little loops in life – when I run well I make progress, and when I make progress I feel good about myself, and when I feel good about myself, I run well. If I can get onto that loop and ride it out for a while, it feels fantastic. I definitely run to my emotions – the happy loop is exactly the same when you look at the reverse of it all: when I feel low about myself, I run badly, and when I run badly I don’t make any progress, and when I don’t make any progress I feel low about myself... It’s a loop that’s sadly all too easy for me to get stuck on – like a scratch on vinyl record (ask your parents) that creates a bump on the needle (for me, it was Aha’s ‘Take On Me’ – on the 3rd chorus “Taaaake onnnnn meeeee. Taaaake meeeee on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on” until you kicked the record player). But it really doesn’t have to be that way. I can kick that metaphorical record player, if I believe enough. Running poorly doesn’t MAKE me feel bad about myself, I CHOOSE to feel bad about myself! If I got a bit of self-belief, that a bad run would just be that: a bad run. Everyone has ‘em from time to time. It doesn’t mean that every run after that will be just as bad, or worse. Sounds so simple! Getting myself to believe it, however, is a different matter, but believe me I’m currently working my little socks off on that particular point. I’ll get there. It’s a long road for me, but I’ll get there.

Saturday morning was parkrun day, Davie’s 100th parkrun (well done, wee Daftie), and the first run I’d done all week. Ian Logan had told me he was going to get me round Glasgow parkrun without walking, but I think we both knew that wasn’t on the cards. However, if I could run MOST of it, then that would be an improvement on my recent form. In fact, I’ve never ran Glasgow parkrun without walking – I guess I’ll put that on my 2014 ‘to do’ list. The only parkruns I’ve ran continuously have been the pancake-flat ones: Edinburgh, Strathclyde and Hull. My old personal trainer helped me run my first ever 5km on an undulating route, and it was the gentle hills in that route I had in my head when I was running in Glasgow. So, the first real incline, probably towards the end of the first kilometre, I ran the whole way up the wee hill, and just about freaked out in my head at how tough it was, and how far there was to go. Julie was running with us, and a friend I don’t think I knew, and she stopped to wait for us a couple of times. “Oi, nae walking!” shouted Ian at her. “I’m not walking, I’m stopping!!” pouted Julie, in return. We plodded along, and down to the Glade, and I steadily, slowly, ran the whole way up the long gentle incline there too, getting lapped several times along the way including Noanie bounding past on the end of a canicross lead with her labrador Sam flying up the hill bowing his head briefly to lap up a very quick slurp of puddle water while in full flight.

Just need to take a minute to snigger to myself, remembering heading towards the glade at Pollok; after a handful of runners had lapped us, Ian says conversationally “this is my 29th parkrun, and this is the first time I’ve been lapped…” to which I shot back, as another guy passed us - “no, that’s the 9th time.” – get it? get it?? Oh I do make myself laugh sometimes. ;) Ahem… where was I?

When we reached the steep hill, I picked a point on the lower part of the incline to run to, which I was pleased to manage, then slowed to a walk. I had ran for 19 minutes without walking, which is the most I’ve done in a very, very long time. I might even say 5 months or more. Ian chastised me for looking at my watch, then encouraged me to lift my head and shoulders, and stand tall as I walked up the hill. He took a few moments to banter with Julie, as I struggled with my breathing a little, and reached the top. Once we crested the hill, I knew I needed to start running again, but – ach, I guess the easiest way to explain it is “I didn’t want to”. However, nae choice with Coach Logan alongside me, and we got going again, with a promise of how we were now on a downhill. And then the split on the course, and while people streamed past us taking the right turn to the finish, we turned left, to start our second loop. And gosh, but I really really didn’t want to!!

Onwards I plodded, finding it tougher to mentally keep myself going. We climbed a little to the second lap, thanked the marshal at the turn, and reached the flat, and suddenly I found my breathing harder, shallower, and each breath was accompanied with an almost high-pitched gasp. I slowed to a walk, scared a little at how difficult this was. And I don’t mean physically difficult, I was having some sort of panic attack, which is a bit daft considering I’ve never had one before, and halfway round a 5km run is not exact panic-causing material! Ian tried to get me to take deeper breaths, and put his arm round my shoulder briefly as I struggled to control things while continuing to walk. Shortly, the higher-pitched wheezing subsided, and I took a few shuddery deeeeeep breaths. Then we were on the long gentle downhill before the steeper downhill to the glade, so we started running again.

The second time I was on the long gentle climb, I walked perhaps half of it, running again near the top as we turned on the flat bit towards the bottom of the steep hill. This time, I picked a point slightly higher up the lower incline than before, and ran it before walking. Reaching the top of the hill, I knew I’d only got a long downhill to go – a shallow-flat-ish one, followed by about 250m steeper downhill. Davie was waiting, and the 5 of us ran down towards the finish. I crossed the line in 39:59, which isn’t exactly my best, but is only the 3rd time in 2014 that I’ve done a 5km under 40 minutes, so I have to be happy with that. Of course I’m not, but I really do have to focus on the positives instead of beating myself up – so, I only walked 4 times, and ran up a few inclines without stopping. I didn’t give up when I hit a snag (the minor panic attack type thing), and I ran with the support of some good friends. That was my 61st parkrun, which is no mean feat either. I guess what I’m saying is I’m proud of myself for getting out there and running, and I’m confident I’ll get back to the 35-36 minute sort of times I was previously getting pretty soon. After that, I’ll be back on that progress loop, then just you watch out! x

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Afterthought.

I know that approximately 40% of my readership comes from the WHW Blogs reading list. You probably think this kind of post is insane, and wonder how the hell I made it onto the list… Well, you don’t have to be an ultrarunner to be part of the family, and sitting in the café after this run with people who have ran dozens of ultramarathons between them, I consider myself very privileged to count these people among my good friends. I’ve never met an ultrarunner I don’t like (okay, that’s not strictly true, but it sounds good, eh?). And anyway, I’m volunteering at the Fling in a couple of weeks, and support crewing for Amanda at the WHW race in June, so I’ll be getting back to posting about ultras soon… in the meantime, you might have to wade through a few dozen posts about my struggles to make the start line of the Clyde Stride ultramarathon relay this year. I have to be able to ‘comfortably’ manage running about 10 miles, in September, and you know what? I think I might just make it. (But there's no fecking chance I'm running the last leg, on that route!) x x