Tag: Running

The Pacemaker Diaries: Summer Edition!

It’s been a while since my last Pacemaker Diary entry, so with a bit of time to kill and a few tings to update, I thought I’d write another.

In my last entry, in April, I wrote about hitting a bit of a bump in the road. I’d had to abandon a run, was suffering with dizziness and a general feeling of tiredeness and just generally wasn’t really coping with the whole ‘adjusting to having a pacemaker’ thing. I’d been back at work for around a month and was beginning to feel like I might not make it through to summer.

https://middleagefanclub.wordpress.com/2023/04/09/the-pacemaker-diaries-weve-definitely-hit-a-bump-in-the-road/

Well, it’s now summer. Two weeks into the holidays to be precise and while I’m nowhere near as fit and healthy as I had been pre-pacemaker, I’m still slowly getting there. Obviously, this is incredibly frustrating. You might argue that I should have gotten used to how my body feels and reacts to things by now. After all, I had my pacemaker fitted about 9 months ago. But, dear reader, I’m not used to it and that’s all there is to it. Or rather, I am used to it but I still absolutely hate the whole idea of it! It’s wonderful to still be here and I’m eternally grateful to the NHS and the staff at the hospital that helped me through and indeed the ones that still help when I have some kind of appointment, but I can’t change how I feel.

The phrases “I’m getting there” and “It’s just going to take time” have become as much a comfort as they have a pain in the arse, but I have to just keep reminding myself – and sometimes others, who don’t seem to get it – that I am indeed getting there and that this whole process of feeling myself and feeling fit again is jus going to take time! Friends who’ve gone through the same or similar have told me on numerous occasions that they didn’t feel themselves again for a long, long time and I suppose I’m simply finding out about how true that is!

Anyway, enough of the moaning and moping. There are some positives to discuss!

For one, I’m still running. It’s been a while since I had to be mature and force myself to take a break and as a result my fitness is consistently okay. It’s not great, but it’s okay…didn’t Whitney Houston once sing about that or something similar? Perhaps, that’s not a good thing…

I’ve been uncharacteristically sensible about my running for the past 4 or 5 weeks and have built up my distances really steadily. So, perhaps I’m tempering my frustration and anger a little bit after all.

Having completed the Leeds 10k in late June I took a break and haven’t ran that distance since. Instead, when I got back out I settled for running just 5ks for a couple of weeks and then built the distance up from there. I still haven’t managed another 10k run, but I think I will do soon as I’m consistently running over 5 miles. There have been varying results pace-wise, but I’m feeling more than capable of getting round the distance. It’s still reeeaaallly frustrating to see how slow I’ve ran at times, but I just have to cope!

I ran while on holiday recently, taking on some huge hills in North Wales, while receiving curious looks from llamas on a local farm! I ran for 5 miles, finishing on the beach and felt fantastic afterwards, but I made sure that I gave myself lots of recovery time and didn’t go for a second run that week which was a relief and a bit frustrating in equal measure! However, the change of scenery and obvious challenge felt like it did me the world of good.

After every run I’m on to planning my next one and genuinely feeling like I can go further. I was out earlier this week and managed 5.3 miles and I’ll be out again this weekend. I’m hoping that this one can be my first 10k since June, but we’ll see how the body reacts over the next couple of days.

I managed to damage my lower back around a month ago and then just when I felt it was almost better, injured it again. The first time was while leaning out of my chair at work to pick up something I’d dropped and then the second time was while getting something out of a cupboard in the kitchen! Both dangerous and high stakes activities, I’m sure you’ll agree but as frustrating as this is I guess it just comes down to having a battered, middle aged body, so I’ll have to cope!

As part of getting my back better I’ve started doing yoga again. It was something me and my wife did years ago and both felt we benefitted hugely from it. But time constraints and a young family got in the way and it fell by the wayside. However, my wife recently suggested a few moves that might help my back and so yoga is back on the agenda. I’ve only managed a couple of very short sessions with the aid of my phone to keep me right on the positions, but I’m hoping it will start to help with my health. It’s a bit more complicated as anything that means putting weight or pressure on my left hand side results in my pacemaker digging into me, but I’d take that over palpitations and blackouts any time!

I’m also hoping that yoga will help with my mental health. I’ve had lots of support in recovering from surgery and adapting to this new almost constantly fatigued, old body. However, it’s still been incredibly tough and I’ve felt isolated and sad throughout. The running has helped as I’m alone with my thoughts and can resolve a lot of stuff while I’m out. But I’m hoping that yoga – however bitesized it might be – will help me feel a lot calmer and relaxed about things.

So, there we have it. I have my next 10k race planned for October and am wondering about entering another before that. Either way though, I’m just hopeful that I can stay fit and healthy for long enough to feel that I can go back to work again in September feeling a bit brighter about things and then have a real go at the October 10k. As ever though, it’s just nice to still be here, however difficult things might seem and however low I might get at times!

Turning Points: The Road to Recovery

Today, my body hurts almost more than ever. There’s a dull ache almost everywhere, except for my pacemaker scarring and the area around it. That’s really very sore and it feels like almost every movement on my left side makes me wince.

It’s all OK though, because that dull ache, the fatigue I feel and the way my brain seems to be telling my eyes to just close is just the result of another turning point in my recovery. I’ll explain later on why I feel so rough.

It’s been just over 7 months since my surgery and while there have been setbacks that have brought me crashing back down to Earth, there have been some notable turning points that have told me that everything is going in the right direction. A lot of negatives, but enough positives to keep me going.

The first one was actually getting out of hospital. Whatever the reason for being in hospital, I think you automatically feel a little bit better when you’re back at home. The familiarity of it all, the good will and love of family and friends will give you a certain air of contentment, however your body feels.

It took me a couple of days before I felt strong enough to go out for a walk and we only went a very short way, but the sense of achievement was more than enough to make it feel like a big turning point. I wasn’t just lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself; I was trying to recover, trying to get stronger and fitter and I knew that this was exactly what I had to do for every day that I was at home and away from work. From day one I was determined to get well.

My next turning point was accepting that what had happened – having to have a pacemaker fitted – was quite a big deal. However, despite the fact that I was struggling to feel remotely alive, I was sure that the operation was just routine and that it was more my age that was holding me back. A few people had to sit me down and have a bit of a word before I was able to take in exactly how serious things had been. Coming to terms with it all has been a huge factor in beginning to feel anywhere near my old self again.

Heading back to work after 4 months off was part of this. All of my friends and colleagues were very kind, checking up on me, letting me know that I’d been missed and that it was great to see me back. I didn’t believe any of them when they told me that I looked well, but that’s another story! However, getting back into the routine of work and seeing that I could still do everything that was necessary to be a high school teacher was a definite turning point and something that helped pick my confidence up from the basement level where it had been previously residing for 4 months!

The first major turning point in recovery was visiting friends in Toronto in April. I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but suddenly I felt a lot better about everything. It was of course wonderful to see our friends – Andy and Kim and their kids, Hannah Mae and Benji – but still I can’t say exactly what made me feel so much better. Perhaps it was simply seeing such brilliant people again? Perhaps, the knowledge that I was capable of heading to the other side of the world and being on the go all day, every day? Or perhaps it was just the freedom of it all and the fact that I enjoyed everything so much? After all, they say that laughter is good for the soul, don’t they? Whatever it was, my body felt lighter when I returned and my mood had very definitely changed.

Top 10 Toronto: Some highlights of our trip.

Running again has definitely helped me turn a corner. I ran a 10k race in May – my first in almost 8 months – and it proved to me that my body was capable of more than I’d dared to imagine. Even going out on short runs had been a boost. However, the biggest turning point so far came on Sunday just gone and it’s the aforementioned reason why my body aches so much this week.

On Sunday 18th June, I ran the Leeds 10k and proved a lot of things to myself. It told me that my body is inching towards being better, fitter and stronger, although I’m already aware that it’s going to be possibly another 6 months before I reach the kind of condition that I’d been in before my surgery.

I won’t bore you with the minutiae of the race, but I can tell you that it felt like I did well. ‘Well’ that is, in the context of being a 51-year-old man just over 7 months out from heart surgery! This was only my second 10k run since October last year, but my best time since then too. Strava keeps reminding me that I was averaging around 52 minutes for the distance last year, but my one previous effort this year had been completed in a fraction under an hour. So, to achieve a time of 56.54 on Sunday felt like winning the lottery.

For weeks I’ve felt down about the times I’ve been posting when out on runs. I’ve had numerous setbacks and had to rest for weeks too, which has made me feel really low. So completing the course in 56 minutes felt good! A friend has repeatedly told me that times don’t matter, but being as stubborn as I am, I just haven’t been able to ignore that clock!

There was also the fact of how my body felt on the run itself. Apart from one short lived, but very tired spell in the final kilometre, I felt very good (again, in the context outlined earlier!). I felt light and strong, which I’ve not felt all year. Runs have felt like I’m heavy and plodding, dragging myself around my routes. It’s felt like no fun at all and and yet on Sunday it was an absolute joy to be out on the roads and not feel the energy drain from my body at any point. I kept telling myself to relax, reminding myself when to lengthen my stride and when to shorten it for uphill stretches. Most of all though, I kept reminding myself to just keep going! I hadn’t managed a full 10k in training and so that made me slightly nervous, although I knew deep down that I wouldn’t stop until I crossed that line! But for almost the whole 10k, I felt completely in control.

Without doubt, this was a massive turning point in my recovery so far. Without sounding too dramatic, but while also trying to simply tell the truth, it was one of only a handful of times in the last 7 months when it’s felt truly wonderful to be alive. The payback has been how badly my body has taken it! My efforts have really worn me out and for the first couple of days afterwards, it was tough just to get through the day. However, I’m confident that will pass. Anyone’s body needs to recover after being pushed to its limits and I know only too well that my body is no different.

It’s been a good last few days and a nice reminder that I am getting better. Now, the hope is just that I can keep on moving forward and not be forced to take too many backward steps any more. My next 10k race is in October and I genuinely can’t wait!

Recovery Goals: My First 10k Race!

As lots of you know, I suffered a bit of a health setback in November of last year when I was admitted to hospital and had to have a pacemaker fitted. It was a shock, but not in terms of feeling unwell. The truth was that I’d been struggling with heart ‘episodes’ since around May last year. I just made a really stupid choice in trying to manage it and hide it from everyone. My distinct lack of medical training allowed me to have faith in the fact that it would probably just go away.

Despite all of this, I’d kept on going out running, striving to build fitness while all along fully aware of the palpitations and dizzy spells I suffering on an every more regular basis. I never felt bad when running though, so I kept going.

On Sunday 15th May last year, I ran the Pontefract 10k in West Yorkshire, finishing in just over 51 minutes. I felt great.

By May 28th I was a complete mess and was forced to reveal a little bit of what was going on to my family when I had my worst episode of the year. The palpitations got so bad that my whole body was shaking. This lasted for around 6 hours and for almost all of this I managed to hide what was happening. I was forced to confess as we were due to go out to a gig and I was worried I may well collapse. Miraculously, I didn’t end up in hospital as, with a bag packed, I suffered a dizzy spell that shook me from the feet up and levelled my heart rate back out. I was exhausted, but fine, so no need for a doctor. It couldn’t and didn’t last though.

In October I collapsed in Manchester Airport as we were heading off for a break. Again, fate intervened as the ambulance was unavailable, so we went on holiday, took things easy and vowed to visit the doctor when home. But my ‘luck’ was about to run out. It was while waiting for an appointment at hospital that I ended up being admitted to a ward anyway, a month later. The rest, as they say, is history.

To cut a long story short, I set myself some goals in hospital. One of them was to get fit and run the Pontefract 10k in May of 2023. Despite several setbacks along the way, I achieved my goal a couple of weekends ago. Here’s how it went.

Having only been able to manage three full weeks of training, I was beyond nervous on the morning of the run. I hadn’t actually ran a full 10k since the previous October and knew that once I got to 5.5 miles (8.85km) I was in unknown territory as far as my heart – and actually more importantly, my legs – were concerned. With a minute to go, standing on the start line, I felt a little bit sick and more tired than I’d hoped for. My previous training run had gone well and I’d felt stronger than I did now. Talk about bad timing! Surely all I had to do was start running and keep going though?

The Pontefract 10k course is affectionately described as ‘undulating’. In truth, it’s tough and hills seem to dominate. So, even though I knew what was coming as I took the first turn out of the park that it starts in, I allowed myself a wry smile as my heart sunk (metaphorically, don’t panic) at the sight of the first long climb. If I’m right, it’s about a kilometre long and really a lot steeper than you’d like as you set off on a 10k race.

Around about 5 or 6 minutes later, as I finally crested said hill, my legs felt wobbly to say the least. However, knowing that there was a stretch of flatter running to come calmed me a bit.

The course feels like it takes you up more than it does down, which as it starts and finished in the same place can’t be true. But as each hill appeared, I began to feel doubts seeping in. I covered the first couple of miles in around 18.5 minutes, so although I was going slower than I’d have liked, I was steady. My goal was to run it in under an hour, but I was more hoping that I’d be close to 55 minutes as this had been what my training had indicated I was capable of.

I ran a focused race. Just telling myself to shorten my stride and keep plodding along for hills or lengthen it for flat sections or downhills bits. When heading downhill I was careful not to get too carried away though as the course has a nasty habit of following a lovely downhill section with a punishing climb. I tried not to look at my watch too often in order to check times and distance, but as the race went on and I got more tired, it proved too much and I was making checks on a far too regular basis, which didn’t help me.

Turning at halfway, I was greeted with the usual big hill, which then takes you left and up another one. During these climbs I started to doubt myself a little bit, but was spurred on somewhat by the fact that some people had began to walk. Despite being encouraged to do so by my family, walking was never an option for me, but although the sight of others doing this lifted my spirits a bit, it did nothing for my legs! I’d also started to feel sick by this point too, but I knew there was a water station a mile or two ahead, so just hoped that I could reach that point incident free.

Underpinning every step I took, both in training and the race itself, was the fact that this was a major goal I’d set while lying in a hospital bed feeling very sorry for myself. In short, I was determined that I’d finish, on my feet, running. And I’d finish in under an hour!

The hills just seemed to keep on coming though and despite the fact that I’ve ran the race twice before, I still couldn’t work out when they’d end. Every time I dragged myself up one, it felt like there was another in the distance and I’d lengthen my stride for the flat section before steeling myself for the energy sapping climb to come!

The water station came and went and I grabbed a bottle, being careful just to sip some in order to avoid being sick. Lots of runners take a swig and discard their bottle pretty quickly, but I decided I’d just keep mine until I saw my family near the end. I’d be able to just keep taking regular sips in order to keep going. Those hills didn’t want to stop though!

Every so often on the route, people had come out of their houses to cheer the runners on and the support was invaluable to me this year. It’s naturally quite encouraging and people say the loveliest things as you run past, although not the most accurate. Whoever called out, “looking good” as I ran past in the last few kilometres clearly needed an eye test! I was also struck by one old man’s generosity of both thought and gesture as we approached the last sections of the race. He’d bought a few crates of bottled water and was using his Sunday morning to help people out. It was a lovely gesture and although I was clinging on to my water station bottle and didn’t need any more, it distracted me for a little while and took my thoughts away from how tired I was.

The race ends on the same stretch that it begins with, meaning the uphill start is reversed. I’ve never been happier to be at the top of a hill! I’d checked my watch and knew that the 6 mile mark (almost 10kms) was approaching, so I lengthened my stride once more and ran faster. I knew that my family would be somewhere on the hill, waiting for me, but as yet I couldn’t see them. Knowing they were there really helped though.

About halfway down the hill I spotted them and I knew they’d be able to see me. It spurred me on that little bit more and I picked up speed once again. The last thing I wanted was to worry them and I knew I wouldn’t look too good, so moving faster was my only hope!

Passing them, I knew that the final bend, leading to the last straight was about 30 seconds away. Time seemed to be moving faster than I would have liked though and the clock was getting uncomfortable close to the hour mark.

Two runners passed me at the very start of the final straight. I told myself out loud to let them go – normally I would have kicked on again and tried to catch them. But now, I was exhausted and my only goal was just to get over the finish line.

I was aware that I was moving fairly quickly though. Somehow I’d found the strength to not quite sprint, but to move a great deal quicker than I’d been doing in the last few miles! At this point in the race people are lining the road and everyone cheers the runners on loudly; but not as loudly as my family. My wife, daughter and son had cut across a field to get to the final stretch and I could hear them shouting encouragement as I got close to the finish. The trouble was, I couldn’t see the finish. Normally, there’s a big arch, but this year just a small sign, so for far longer than was comfortable I was unaware of exactly where I was.

By now my competitive streak had kicked in and I checked over both shoulders, sensing that other runners would be finishing strongly too. To my amazement, it seemed like no one was close, so I turned my head around briefly to check. The nearest runner was at least 20 yards behind me. No one else would pass me now. But then I noticed that up ahead, one competitor was walking. It was a club runner that I’d been close to for the last half of the race, but he’d gotten away from me while I was flagging. I sped up – fractionally – feeling that he was sure to hear me and run, but he didn’t and I was able to make up one more place in the finishing order.

Just when I thought it would never come, the finish line was mere yards away. I could see the clock ticking on. 59.50. My watch was reading a minute less, but that would be my time over the start line, not my gun time. Again, I kicked. I could just dip under the hour mark. Using every last bit of energy, I made it, crossing the line in a time of 59.58!

In amongst the feelings of sheer joy, I must admit that I welled up at the end. Having set this as a goal 6 months previously and nearly not made it, it was a little bit overwhelming. But I wasn’t going to cry in front of hundreds of runners and spectators, so I gritted my teeth, covered my face a bit and took some deep breaths. Job done!

By the time my family located me, I’d picked up my medal, grabbed a bottle of water and was waiting in the queue for a t-shirt. As I stood, my legs were rapidly cramping up though. I knew I hadn’t been able to train enough and was fully aware of what the last 10k had taken out of me. I was so tired that I didn’t have the strength left in my legs to stand still and stretch in order to get rid of the cramp! My wife had to hold onto me, so that I could balance and stretch. Later, when I had to go and take a match for my youth football team things would get worse as I kept getting cramp in my feet, but couldn’t balance in the stretch position needed to alleviate the problem!

So 6 months on from my operation and I feel like I’ve finally achieved something tangible. I certainly feel a great deal more like my old self, even if it’s been a long road to get here. I guess there’s nothing else for it than to keep moving forward. So, where and when is the next race that I can enter?

Always Look on the Bright Side: Five things that made me smile lately.

It’s been a while since I wrote one of these posts. The delay hasn’t been because I’ve not been smiling, but let’s just say that the last few months have been complicated! Regular readers will know why and at times there’s not been a great deal to smile about, try as I might.

I write these posts mainly to remind myself that life is pretty good at least most of the time. Of course things will test us and our ability to raise a smile and it’s easy to descend into a bit if a fug about it all. Work, kids, obsessions with sports teams, relationships, taxes, traffic…they’ll all test your patience. Every so often though, when I have time to reflect I’m able to realise that there’s plenty to smile about. And every time I write one of these, people let me know that it’s nice to be reminded of the simple things that let us know that it’s not all doom and gloom!

So here we go…what’s been making me smile lately?

  1. I’m running again. Before the last few weeks I hadn’t been out running since the middle of October. I’d missed it desperately. However, a combination of knowing that I needed to be patient with my body (how frustrating!) and the fact that going running genuinely terrified me, had kept me in my slippers rather than my running trainers. Not even getting a fancy new pair of runners for Christmas could tempt me back. While I was poorly I made sure that I went out for a walk most days. I built this up slowly and by mid January was out every day for around an hour. It would wipe me out for the next few hours of the day, but it felt wonderful. As time went on I would go for a walk/run combination on a Saturday morning, but that would mean running probably less than a mile all told. It didn’t really feel like it counted. Then, on Valentine’s Day, with the weather looking wonderful I went out for what was supposed to be a tentative run. I wouldn’t be going far – a couple of miles at most. I even took my son out as a bit of mini support. We ended up doing a 5k in just over 32 minutes and I was beyond thrilled. And beyond exhausted! Since then I’ve done three more runs, gradually moving on in distance each time. My latest was last Wednesday when I managed to run 3.75 miles (just over 6km) in 32 minutes. I clocked my 5k time as 27.49, which I’d normally be disappointed with. But, for the last few months things have been far from normal. Being able to run again and feeling even a little bit of confidence doing it has felt absolutely wonderful.
  2. An unusual location for a jingle. Part of my new running route takes me through a business park. Twice now I’ve found myself grinning from ear to ear as a pie truck has arrived at the park and sounded an ice cream van type jingle to let office workers know it’s ‘pie time’! For those of you who remember the show, it plays the Benny Hill theme tune, which makes me wonder if the boss runs out with all their workers following them in some kind of slapdash column to get their savoury treats!
  3. A snow day! I’ve only been back at work for a few weeks and on a very partial timetable at that. However, when school was closed because of snow at the back end of last week, I couldn’t hide how thrilled I was at getting a free day off! It was a Friday too, meaning a 3 day weekend…unbeatable!
  4. Care Home Movie Posters. Now not only is this a great name for a band, it made for an excellent story too. This was something I read about on the BBC website; the story of how residents at a care home in Bristol had been recreating posters of some of their favourite films. You can read about it – and view some of the images – on the link below, but basically, if you’re not smiling at the octogenarian Godfather or Jean, 92 as Maria Von Trapp from The Sound of Music, then you’re taking life far too seriously!

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-bristol-64866813

I won’t spoil the story for you by putting the images up, but in looking for further information on the story I did find that they’re not the only care home to have had this idea. Below is a picture from another care home that did the same thing, but with different films. Again, if this version of Reservoir Dogs isn’t making you grin, then I genuinely feel for you!

5. Kids being kids. The final thing that has made me smile lately – that I’m writing about anyway; I’ve smiled more than 5 times lately – came on our snow day. In the afternoon I went for a walk in the snow with my wife and daughter and it made me smile a lot. Firstly, our town looked amazing blanketed in white, as did our view of Leeds. Secondly, watching my daughter attempting to navigate snow, ice and mud in trainers and a pale blue pair of joggers made me laugh a lot. Eventually, she tucked her joggers into her bright blue novelty socks, worn for warmth, not to be seen and slithered her way through the terrain like that. Unmissable.

Towards the end of our walk though, we cut across the bottom of a hill that runs around the edge of the estate where we live. Above us, on various positions around the hill were dozens of children and sometimes parents, sledging and throwing snowballs. It felt like a bit of a throwback to my own childhood with not a mobile phone in sight and instead, just kids being kids and enjoying throwing themselves around in the snow. We even came across my son, messing around with friends that he’s known in primary school, but had since lost touch with a little bit when they went their separate ways at high school. It seemed the snow was uniting us all and not just by imprisoning us in cars stuck in traffic jams for once. Even later on that afternoon, thinking about it made me smile.

Just me, smiling!

I hope you enjoyed reading and that maybe my experiences made you smile a bit too. Whatever you’re doing over the next week or so, make sure that you try to find a moment to allow yourself a smile.

New Year’s (quiet) resolutions!

It’s that time of year again. Time to put the last one behind you and start kidding yourself that everything will be a great deal better for the next 365 days simply because one year rolled over into the next one. A new year, a fresh start, time to make some changes and all that.

As it happens, things have been so bad for me lately that the turn of the year is actually just convenient for change in my life. My previously documented health problems mean that things need to change and I’m now just about well enough to start changing them. On top of that, I think I can be more than hopeful that next year will be far better than this one was!

I’m keen not to set myself too many big targets though, hence the quiet resolutions. And I know that there are previous targets and goals that I’ve set and then never really done anything about, so I’ll stick to a manageable number this year. I mean, it’s still very early in the year and healthwise, I already feel shattered, so let’s keep things in perspective!

Here goes…

  1. Stop keeping secrets. An important one, this. It’s not me blatantly telling anyone who reads that they can’t trust me, by the way. However, I kept my heart problems to myself last year, in the hope that they’d go away and that I wouldn’t have to bother anyone. Fat lot of good that did me! Hopefully, there won’t be much to report, but if there’s any action in my chest, I’ll be sure to let someone know. Anything more and I’ll blab to the nearest medical professional. Common sense, I know, but that’s not always been my strong point where health is concerned.
  2. Get fit…again. Heart problems blighted last year for me, culminating with time spent in hospital and the shock of having to have a pacemaker fitted. It’s been a long recuperation and it’s left me feeling decidedly unfit and still pretty poorly. I’m breathless and wobbly on my feet if we walk too far! Just before Christmas though, my cardiologist gave the all clear to start running again, albeit really gradually. I’ll freely admit that this is something that scares the living daylights out of me, but once I find a bit of courage, I’ll be back out there getting fit. Hopefully, come the Spring time, I can start taking part in races again. Baby steps for now though. I’ll keep you posted!
  3. Get healthy and stay that way. I’ve been off work now for around 7 weeks and to be honest, while I know when my latest sick note ends, I’m really not sure when I’ll be well enough to go back to work, although I hope it’s sooner rather than later. And then there’s the matter of getting back to normal life. It’s not just been about being off work. If I run upstairs, I’m out of breath. If my clothes are too tight, I struggle to get them on or off and it hurts to do so. Tying my laces still hurts. If I take one thing too many out of the cupboard, I struggle with the weight on my left hand side. I can’t think fast and I struggle to get my words out quite frequently; I don’t know why. And I’m genuinely quite scared when I feel any kind of activity in my chest. So it’s not just the physical side of things that need to get better. It’s all too easy to tell people that you’re ‘getting there’ or whatever other platitude I might use when asked how I’m doing, but I’m not coping anywhere near as well as I’d like. So, getting healthy is going to continue to be a big old job!
  4. Finally send some poetry to somewhere other than my blog. I’ve had this ambition for a while now, but although I write poems on a fairly regular basis, I always seem to end up just adding them to my blog. I’ve resolved to enter some poetry competitions before now, as well as looking into sending stuff into literary magazines. I’ve just never found the time or I suppose, the courage to do it. However, I have a few things that I’m working on at the moment and a few finished poems that I’ve done nothing with, so 2023 has to be the year that I break my duck in this area.

And that’s that. Part of me wishes I had a fifth resolution, just because it looks like a better number. But then, if I’m trying to lessen the burden a little bit, adding a fifth would just be counter-productive and I’d be even less inclined to actually do anything about it. Anyway, that top three is going to keep me pretty busy, I reckon!

I’ll keep you posted about how things are going. In the meantime, perhaps you could let me know about your own resolutions in the comments? Maybe someone might yet inspire that fifth one for me!

Cramp, a head like a tomato and lots of aches and pains – an introduction to running in middle age.

What do you do when you wake up one day and realise that you’re now somewhere between the ages of 40 and 50 and you have no idea how it all happened? Well, there are of course lots of answers to that question. If you’re a man, you may consider some form of mid-life crisis, be it buying a sports car, dressing like a teenager or flirting with people half your age. Actually, if you’re a man you might well do all three and then some, pushing hard to ruin your life! If you’re a woman, you might feel regretful about missed opportunities or low about your appearance, but ultimately you’ll be OK!

Whatever you are, you might want to make positive changes and a really popular change is to start becoming healthier. With the hedonism of your twenties having taken its toll and the hard work of your thirties now bearing fruit in the form of a mortgage, kids and an expanding waistline, you may well decide that you want to reclaim some of your youthful good looks and energy.

There are lots of things you can do. You may go back to a team sport like football, rugby, hockey or netball. You may try a new sport like squash or tennis. You might even fling yourself into the kind of pursuits you’d so far avoided like the plague, like yoga or pilates. Or, if you’re like me and many others in their middle age years, you might just go out running.

Running and health and fitness have been a major part of my blog. They’ve also been a huge influence on my middle age. The two things collided when I fell ill with heart problems aged 44. They advanced somewhat during lockdown and now, six years on, they’re a major part of my life.

So how might you get started with a pursuit like running when you’ve hit middle age? Well, I’m certainly no expert, but let me offer a few suggestions.

The first thing that I would recommend is a change of mindset. I see a lot of people, especially on social media, bemoaning the fact that they ‘can’t do’. That might be because of time and the perception that they’re too busy or because they feel that their fitness is too poor to try. When I was younger this was always my mindset. I wanted to get fit, but would tell myself that it was too rainy, too windy, my back hurt, my knee felt niggly, I was too tired and found it really easy to convince myself not to run. Even when I went out I’d hear a tired little voice in my had telling me I’d done enough and then I’d convince myself that I’d ran a few miles, when probably what I’d managed had been a very slow mile. Often, I’d not even make it out, convincing myself that I’d go when I felt just right. All too often, I’d find another excuse not to go or I’d go out and find myself settling for just a section of a planned route.

Needless to say, it didn’t work and I rarely found running a pleasure. My fitness didn’t improve and as a result, my running dropped off until it was non existent.

I started again following a health scare a few years ago. Despite telling myself – and probably anyone who’d listen – that I was ‘naturally fit’ I found myself in hospital with heart problems. It terrified me and speaking to a patient who had suffered multiple heart attacks seemed to flick a switch within me.

Once I was fit enough again I went out running with my kids. My mindset at first was that we’d run as far as I could. To start off with that’d be 10 minutes and I learnt to love the fact that I was able to do even that. But, by changing my mindset, I managed to keep making progress. I’d celebrate our runs, often posting on social media and I’d tell the kids that we had to run further next time and not just another minute or so, a decent amount. Within a year we did a 5km fun run in Roundhay Park and I’ve never cherished a finisher’s medal so much!

Nowadays, I don’t allow myself to have excuses. Reasons are fine; so recently I’ve been struggling with a back injury and was able just to tell myself to rest. I know I’ll be back out soon enough. Similarly, if I’m too busy, I’ll find time, even if it’s just 20 minutes. Unless it’s ridiculously windy or rainy, I’ll force myself out, whether I feel like it or not. My changed mindset says it’s a huge positive to get out and run. So, my first tip would be to change your mindset – don’t allow excuses and see every step and every minute as a positive. You could say that it’s a marathon, not a sprint!

If you’re beginning to run in middle age you’ll also need to set yourself small goals. At first that might be a lap around the block or a circuit of the park. You can build from there. When I ran with my kids we had a circuit around our estate and we’d always end up doing laps of the football field. Our goal was to do another lap every time, more if we felt we could manage. It worked. If your goals are realistic, you can reach them every time and it’ll feel great. Have a plan, set a small goal and then…out you go.

A good way of setting goals might be to download a running app. I use Strava and while I’m running I might well be thinking of other roads on my route that I could run down in order to lengthen my run next time (a good trick to keep your mind off how your legs are feeling, that one!). Failing that, I’ll look at the map on the app when I’m finished and target a route for next time. And 9 times out of 10 I’ll set myself a simple goal of running just a little bit further next time.

In terms of starting off and setting smaller goals, the ‘Couch to 5k’ app looks ideal. It’s free, easy to use and automatically sets the goals for you, working you up to a 5km run in manageable steps, which at our age is a really good thing!

Another good tip is to invest in some decent gear to go running in. When I first got back to running, aged 43, I simply bought a cheap pair of Nike runners from an outlet store without any real thought about what I was buying. They were there, they were in my size, they were cheap. They actually lasted me for a decent amount of time and were falling apart by the time I replaced them.

This time though, I’d done some research and read up on what I needed. I still didn’t shell out a huge amount of money, but made sure that I read reviews and took into account things like cushioning, weight and the heel to toe drop. The results were great. Firstly my times improved, but much more interestingly, especially given my age, my recovery time between runs got noticeably better. My legs ached a lot less and I wasn’t frequently waking up in the night after a run with shocking cramp! Furthermore, I didn’t feel 30 years older the next day either. So, I’d thoroughly recommend doing a bit of research and spending a bit more money on trainers that are going to be of more benefit to you.

This led to me spending a little more money on kit like shorts and running tops, which if I’m honest just make me feel better because they fit better! As a middle aged runner whose face turns tomato red after about a mile, having nice kit could be an essential distracting factor as I run past people in cars. In short, if my kit’s better, they might not notice my hilarious face! That said, even having better running socks feels like it’s of benefit, so a slightly bigger spend is a great idea. And if you’re worried about money then just keep an eye out for the sales when it’s easy to grab yourself a bit of a bargain. Oh, and buy shorts with a pocket; handy if you’re taking a key out or you just want to take a bit of fuel. I always make sure I have pockets to put some jellies in, which I find give me a much needed sugar rush at certain points in my runs!

As a new, middle aged runner you’re possibly going to feel a bit self conscious. I’m not a fan of my body and it’s safe to say that it’s got worse as I ticked over into my fifties. So, the idea of the horror show that is this tall, skinny middle aged man with a little pot belly running around the streets clad in clingy material haunted me from the word go!

One good idea for this problem would be to find some like-minded individuals. You might have friends who are keen to start running, but if not, there’s always a running club that you could join. A quick Google search is almost certain to reveal some kind of running club in your area and from what I understand, they’re always a friendly bunch. Being a bit of a grump, I still run on my own, but even I can see myself joining a club at some point. It’s got to provide a boost and maybe looking forward to meeting up with your running pals might help you resist the urge to stay in watching telly and resting your still aching muscles! Running as part of a group is also a lot safer too, so it’s definitely a good idea if you can find the right people.

The final piece of advice I’d give you if you’re starting to go running in middle age is to listen to your body. I’ve found running to be quite addictive, particularly as I’ve got fitter and been able to achieve certain goals. But I’ve really had to temper that readiness to go out running. The simple fact is that if you’re starting to run in your middle age, your body isn’t going to bounce back like it used to do! Rest is absolutely vital at this time of life, particularly if you’re pushing yourself. And the more you ignore your body, the more likely you are to pick up niggling injuries that will only get worse. So my advice would be to enjoy your running, but make sure that you not only give yourself good recovery time, but recover properly too; drinking lots of water and getting the vitamins back into your body is vital to being on top of your fitness when you go back out again. I find that eating cranberries or bananas gives me back that limited feeling of vitality that I have in my fifties!

So, there you have it! Hopefully that might give some people a bit of a push or maybe even some inspiration. Personally, I can’t recommend running enough and I genuinely feel like I’m, in a way, revitalised by going back to it in middle age. And given that none of us are getting younger, maybe we all need a bit of revitalisation!

The Morley 10k

Bright sunshine, blue skies, a chill in the air and a slight breeze. Some – including me – would say these are perfect conditions for running.

And so it was that on Sunday 9th October, 2022, in bright sunshine, myself and my family left our house at just after 8.40am to make the short walk down to the start line of the inaugural Morley 10k.

Despite my usual case of pre-race nerves and self-doubt – usually put down to having hairy skinny legs and combining them with shorts while other people are around – I had an inkling that this was going to be a good race as soon as we arrived. As I’ve already mentioned, the weather was lovely, but it was the atmosphere that struck me more than anything.

Whether it was because I’d never seen this stretch of road so busy, I don’t know. But there was an unmistakable buzz about the place. As well as race officials and over 700 chattering runners there were lots of spectators at the side of the road, people in their gardens, others just sitting on their front step with a cuppa, all combining to make for a really positive atmosphere and sight.

As 9 o’clock struck, the race was started and off we went on the steady climb up Middleton Road that would mark our first kilometre. Spectators continued to line the road, some out of curiosity (probably just to find out who in their right mind was out running so far on a Sunday morning) and many there to support relatives and friends that were out there having a go.

Personally, as a keen runner, I’d ran the course a few times and so I was able to make a steady enough start, easing my way past a few slower runners as I went, while allowing others to pass me by. After all, at my age there’s no point whatsoever in a fast start when I know that there’s an enormous hill at the end of the 10 kilometres!

Morley town centre marked the start of the second kilometre and there were more people milling around and clapping our efforts. The course then swooped down a big hill where I was careful not to get too carried away for a couple of reasons. Firstly, these big hills can see a runner topple over, unable to handle their own momentum and secondly, with a while still to go and a long uphill section ahead of me, energy preservation was at the forefront of my mind!

At the bottom of the hill lies Morley Bottoms, so named because…well, you can work it out, surely? We would cross this point a further couple of times but there were already plenty of people around, which again was a lovely boost. Every so often there’d be a friendly marshal telling you how well you were doing too, which as someone who’s generally a solo trainer was a nice change. Normally I just have people like dog walkers staring at me, no doubt wondering why I’ve chosen to make myself look so knackered, sweaty and red!

Around the next mile or so would be spent running uphill and while this was a steady rise for the most part, I knew that it was going to be quite challenging. When you possess legs like mine – imagine a stork in trainers – then hills are going to be an inconvenience at best! However, I must admit today surprised me and when I got to the top of the climb and we turned to head back down – hurray – I was still feeling strong. The nagging injuries I’d taken into the run weren’t troubling me, which was a relief, but I was still careful to take things fairly steadily back down the long stretch of hill to the 3 mile point.

I knew that my family would be waiting for me back down at Morley Bottoms, having walked round from the start. And given I’ve lived in Morley for around 25 years, I thought I might see someone I knew too. In short, this meant that as I got there I was running at a pace of a minute quicker per mile than I would have liked as excitement got the better of me!

Emerging at the bottom of the hill my eyes darted everywhere, searching for my wife and children or even just a friendly face. But at first, when I couldn’t find them, it was the noise that hit me. It felt like half of the town had come out, all armed with bells, whistles, tambourines and anything else that they could make a racket with! It felt fantastic running through! And then as we ran through the crossroads I spotted my family – I heard my kids first, in truth! – and now, having ran just about half of the route, I was flying! That is, flying in terms of a tall thin, 50-year-old man flying…so probably moving at a fast jog to those who saw me!

The next part of the route took in a stretch of road where I regularly run, so I was comfortable here and began to try to move through the runners as best I could. However, as we turned to head down Middleton Road towards MacDonalds, the fact that this was a long hill that I’d be running straight back up, was at the forefront of my mind! I knew that this was the place on the route where I would probably begin to feel it in my legs…and of course the rest of my ageing body, lucky me!

Heading back up towards Morley was very much a case of trying to stay smiling and keeping my pace somewhere near respectable and I tagged on to the back of a much younger, much taller runner on this section just to give me something to concentrate on. Then, as we turned again to head up Albert Road and I knew I was close to the final mile, I realised that my legs still felt reasonably good. I got myself to the 5 mile mark and decided that with just over a mile to go, I was going to pick up the pace, while still keeping in mind the mountain that we’d have to climb near the finish!

As I approached Morley Bottoms again for the final time, I’d increased my pace and although my legs were now understandably a little shaky, I was confident of a strong finish. Morley Bottoms was still completely alive with noise and I must admit to feeling a little bit emotional as I ran through, listening to cries about how well I was doing and encouragement to keep going. As the road curved left though, I allowed myself a little look up, just to confirm how steep this final hill was. Sadly, nothing had changed…it still looked huge!

I’ll confess to feeling sick as I got close to the top of the main part of the hill. And, as I suspected they would, my legs felt a great deal more jelly-like! But, with the magnificent town hall now in my eyeline and the finish only a few hundred metres away, I knew I needed to grit my teeth and finish as strongly as I could.

My family were stood opposite the Town Hall – there’s a video where my son shouts, ‘You don’t even look tired’, bless him and his terrible eyesight – and again their support gave me a massive, timely boost. In fact though, there were people everywhere at this point and the support was wonderfully loud. It was at this point that I realised that I was completely on my own in the race. A quick glance over my shoulder showed the nearest chaser about 50 yards back and the next runners on from me were slightly closer.

I pushed myself to what I’ll laughingly describe as a sprint finish, almost catching a few people in front of me on the line. It was a blessed relief to get there though, so gaining one or two extra places didn’t really matter. I’d done exactly what I’d set out to do, finishing in 54.34, almost a minute quicker than I’d ran the course before. The winner finished in 34 minutes, but let’s not dwell on that too much…

It was wonderful to see so many people come together on the day. Hundreds came out to shout themselves hoarse and encourage a load of people that they probably didn’t even know, to run a distance that must have seemed like some kind of madness, so early on a Sunday morning! The race was a victory for community spirit and I’m really thankful for those that had the idea and then put all the hard work in to make it a reality. I really hope that the race goes from strength to strength, year upon year. As we try to forget a pandemic, isolation, austerity and the fact that everything in our lives may just be getting harder and harder to afford, this was the type of thing that the town needed and maybe the kind of thing that we all – runners or not – needed too.

Huge thanks to @morleyrunningclub and Morley Town Council (and anyone else involved that I don’t know of) for all of their hard work. The inaugural Morley 10k was an absolute triumph!

It’s been a weird couple of months – a bit of a health update.

A couple of months ago I wrote a blog about the latest downturn in my health. I didn’t do it because I’m self obsessed and imagine that anybody really wants to know how I’m feeling at any given time. It was written mainly because my health was the reason that the blog started in the first place and also because writing stuff like that is a good way of taking the weight of any worry off my shoulders. If you fancy a read of that one, it’s on the link below.

A spanner in the works.

For a bit more context, just over four years ago I was taken into hospital with heart problems and then, having been fine ever since, last month I spent a Sunday afternoon in a bit of a secretive mild panic as my heart decided it was about time it start racing once more. When I eventually confessed to feeling unwell we had a bag packed ready for a visit to hospital quick smart! In the end though, I didn’t need to go as after an awful spell of dizziness and nausea, everything went back to normal.

A few days later I had an ECG and some blood tests at my doctors and was referred back to Cardiology at our local hospital. This then led me to another local hospital some weeks later, where I got fitted with a 24 hour ECG machine. The most exciting thing to happen within that 24 hours was going to the hospital. Once I had the ECG machine on, my heart behaved impeccably, which was both a comfort and a frustration. A kind of proof that nothing was wrong alongside the mystery of what had actually happened in the first place. So, it sort of confirmed what I’d felt all along; that the latest setback was just a blip, while still leaving open that nagging sense of doubt!

In between times I gave myself a short break from any exercise at all. However, in the back of my mind I knew that I had entered the Leeds 10k and was desperate to do it. With 4 weeks to go until the actual race I set myself a challenge. I would train as best as I could, without pushing things too hard and a few days before the race itself I’d make an honest decision on whether to run or not. I presumed that if there was a problem, I’d know before then anyway.

On my first training run I had to detail my exact route and approximate finishing time to my daughter, so that if anything went wrong, she’d have an idea where to find me. This was much more for her benefit than mine as really, I felt quite strong. I also texted my wife the same details just to reassure her too.

Fast forward four weeks and I found myself on the start line suffering with my usual bout of pre-race nerves, but also feeling a huge determination to run a good time. It was a warm day, but quite still so I was pleased that I wouldn’t be battling the wind too much. What I felt I was battling though, was a bit of a lack of fitness. I’d run a solitary 10k in around 6 weeks, so while I wanted to run a good time, I didn’t know how capable I was and the state of my heart was always at the back of my mind too.

In the end, despite any reservations, I ran just two seconds outside my personal best! I got a little confused in the final mile, thinking I had more to run than I did – I’d definitely put this down to fatigue – and so I didn’t start picking up the pace until it was a little too late. I’ll know for next year though!

My latest heart scare had come after another 10k race about 6 weeks previously having just gone straight back to training, so I made sure I rested properly this time round. In fact, I don’t think I’ve run a 10k since, just concentrating on 4 and 5 mile runs when I go out in order to just stay sharp.

So, at the moment, everything seems OK healthwise. I actually spoke to a cardiology doctor last week, about the results of my 24 hour ECG and the general consensus seems to be that what happened was a bit of a blip. He did brielfy float the idea that I may have had another, much less serious atrial flutter (my problem first time round), but having consulted with another doctor, neither of them were too sure or too concerned. There doesn’t seem to be any need for medication and the only minor concern is that my heart rate is particularly low while I sleep, but from my point of view, that’s OK. I keep an eye on my heart rate when I’m out running, but only looking once or twice, usually once I’ve got up any big hills! Again, there’s been nothing alarming to report.

I’m learning to listen to this middle aged body a bit more though! I’m hopefully finding out that it’s not in as bad a shape as I thought it might be. Oh, and I’ve also learned that I need to hydrate far better, after another doctor told me that my blood test results looked like those of a bloke who didn’t ever actually drink water! So, now I start every day with a glass of water and then make sure that I’m drinking throughout the day. It sounds easier than it is, so again, I’m still learning which is ridiculous at my age.

The good thing is though, despite a few more heart worries, I’m still going strong(ish)!

Top Ten Hazards for the Middle Aged Runner

Now some people would take one look at the title of this particular blog and question the need for a Top Ten. In many ways, I would be one of them. I mean, as a fairly regular middle aged runner I can testify to the fact that it’s often no fun whatsoever. In fact, there are times when it’s nothing short of sheer hell. I enjoy it, in a strange way, but I can’t kid myself that it can be sheer hell too!

In the recent heat, there have been more than a few moments where I’ve wondered if my thumping heart, trembling legs and sweaty face would actually make it through the next few moments, let alone allow me to get back through our front door. I could argue that my face when running, resembling as it does a prized, agricultural show-ready plum tomato, is hazard enough to just give the whole running lark up. But, if you insist on continuing to run into your forties and fifties, then I suppose I’m providing a bit of a public service in telling you the kind of things you should look out for. And simultaneously ignoring my own advice as well…

Hazard 1 – Hills. Going up. not going down. Although even going down a hill can play havoc with the knees these days. But it’s the going up that presents the hazard. A friend of mine once commented on the town where I live, ‘Morley, built on 7 hills, like Rome. And that’s where the comparison ends’. I’d argue that this is not true as we have crumbling buildings and crazy drivers too, just like Rome, but that’s beside the point. Morley was indeed built on seven hills and this means that when running locally I cannot escape the bloody things. So beware, fellow middle age runners, hills mean an increasingly worrying heart rate, jelly legs and the production of many a strange wheezing noise.

Hazard 2 – Van drivers. Well known for their stereotypically lewd comments to women, van drivers are often not the runner’s friend either. Strangely while some are just downright abusive, others appear to think that they’re either running coaches or cheerleaders and many’s the time I’ve been shouted at to “get those knees up” or just told “go on lad”. None of this does any good for my motivation and if you too are a fifty something runner, I daresay it will only inspire muttered threats and swearing.

Hazard 3 – Wind. Just to clarify, that’s the weather related type rather than the arse related. Although I find that sometimes a good burp can do me the world of good while running. But that’s besides the point (and possibly another blog…). At a certain, respectable age wind can become less of a challenge and more of a factor to keep me indoors. It’s battle enough chasing times running a 5 or 10k without having to throw myself headlong into a 20mph headwind. I don’t mind said wind behind me as I’m heading home though!

Hazard 4 – Cobbles. Now this is a niche hazard, I’ll grant you that. But where I live in West Yorkshire, cobbles are still quite common. And before you say ‘just avoid them’, it’s not that simple. I don’t have to run on entirely cobbled streets much at all, but there are certain sections of the roads that I run on where there are still cobbles that are more or less unavoidable. If I don’t run on the cobbles the alternative is to run on the main road connecting Wakefield and Bradford, which as you’d expect, can be rather busy. So while my elderly knees and ankles are put at risk on cobbles, I’ll take my chance with this hazard rather than getting clipped by a truck! If I can continue to keep my balance and stay upright, everything will be OK!

Hazard 5 – Dawdlers. Slow walkers. Like, perilously slow. The bane of my life when I’m out running. Now you may think that this isn’t just a problem for the more vintage runner like myself. So let me explain. I’m out, I’ve established a rhythm and I’m not even giving any thought to how I feel. I’m just running without really having to think too much. And then, up ahead there’s a dawdler. I’m suddenly aware of the width of the pavement or just conscious of the fact that running behind them might give them a bit of a fright. But if they can just make it to that opening or the wider bit of pavement I can give them a wider berth and not slow down. Because I can’t slow down or stop as I might struggle to find this rhythm again! Of course, they never make it to that wider section at the right time and so I’m forced to take evasive action, like running up a grassy bank or into the road. Not a problem at all as a younger runner, but now it’s the kind of thing that could knock me off balance or just drain the legs of what it turns out is absolutely vital energy! Dawdlers: the incredibly innocent looking hazard that you hadn’t even thought about!

Hazard 6 – Dog walkers. Before I go any further, I’ll just say that I know that the majority of dog walkers are wonderful and responsible people. Some of them though, are just dicks! Now this hazard can be similar to your dawdler, which as we know represent a tricky problem. But then you throw in the dog. And here’s the deal. On numerous occasions I’ve been leapt at by dogs, twice sending me crashing to the floor in an ungainly fashion. The first time led to me completing the final half of my run caked in mud – hair, face, arms, legs – and the latest saw me sent sprawling to the concrete and subsequently taking the skin off my hands and knees. And on each occasion the humans involved were unapologetic and worse than useless. I was jumped at recently by a couple of scrawny rat type things and when the owners just grinned I’m afraid my response wasn’t particularly composed. Instead it was riddled with expletives. But I think I made my point. I’m 50 years old and doing my level best to stay fit and healthy. My body does not need to be hastily considering evasive gymnastics while I’m out running.

Hazard 7 – Young runners. Put simply these runners are younger than us, fitter than us and most likely quicker than us. In my case, they probably look better in their running gear too. But they certainly represent a hazard to the middle aged runner like myself. Lots of us will be the same in that we still retain a competitive edge and thus, when I see a young runner out and about, I only ever see a challenge. If I’m ahead of them, I’ll try to stay ahead. If I’m behind, I’ll lengthen my stride and try to catch them. Both are terrible ideas at my stage of life and only ever result in a struggle to actually finish my run! The lesson is to not try and take on people 20 or 30 years younger than me. If only I could learn the lesson!

Hazard 8 – Friends in cars. Admittedly, not the worst thing in the world, but believe me, when you’re 50, approaching the end of a run, sweaty, disheveled and your face looks like it might just explode, you do not want to see one of your mates go past in the car!

Hazard 9 – Chip shops (see also Indian takeaways and pizza shops). An easily avoidable hazard, but one where I never seem to learn my lesson. All of the above are regularly on my running routes simply because I live in quite a large town. Let me tell you, they are not good for moral! The wonderful aroma of chips, garlic or curry never fails to leave me wondering what the hell I thought I was doing when I had the idea for a run in the first place. Surely, ordering out and then sitting down and tucking into any one of these delights would be far more sensible and enjoyable than dragging my weary lycra-clad self round another 10k?

Hazard 10 – Beer Gardens. I regularly go out for a run after work on a Friday. I leave as early as possible, get home and changed quickly, stretch and then out I go. And it always seems like a great idea. I can rid myself of the mental fatigue and stress brought on by the working week and just be alone with my thoughts. Until that is, I spot a beer garden up ahead. It’s similar to the feeling I get when I smell a takeaway, but worse. Worse, because as I look up, it seems like every other middle aged person in town has decided to head to the beer garden and they look to be having such a great time. Would it not make sense for me to deal with my stress just like them? Well, yes, it would! And yet, here I am attempting to recapture the fitness of my youth, like an idiot while the inevitable wag glances up from a cold pint to call out to you to ‘get those knees up’. He probably came over in his van as well!

It should be a very simple thing to do, go out on a run. Staying fit in your middle age should only really be a battle with your own body. But as you’ve just read, it can be far, far more than just that!

Jelly legs is feeling his age!

It’s Monday morning and not only am I afflicted by that Monday feeling, but my body aches almost everywhere from head to toe. Worst of all is that nobody else is to blame; this is all my own fault. And now I have a busy day at work ahead teaching students aged from 11-16, not many of whom will have any sympathy for me!

So yesterday, I completed a 10km race. The same 10k race that I was banging on about a little while back in the blog on the link below, complaining that I was never going to be in the right shape for.

https://middleagefanclub.wordpress.com/2022/04/09/my-first-10k-race-of-the-year-a-month-to-go-and-i-dont-feel-good/(opens in a new tab)

It was my second time at the Pontefract 10k in West Yorkshire and I was determined to do well. But training had been far from perfect and I’d been suffering with a mixture of injury and illness in the weeks leading up to the race. However, come race day I believed that I was fit enough to get round in a time that would beat the one I ran at the same event last year. I felt that I’d managed to pull myself together just about enough in the last few weeks and had trained fairly well, completing a couple of fast – for me – 10k training runs that were only a minute or so outside of the type of time I hoped to run in the race.

It was an early start on race day in our house as myself, my wife and my son all rose before 7am in order to scramble down some breakfast and get ready to head to Pontefract, a 20 minute car journey away. The race was starting at 9am and we would need to be there early in order to get parked up before heading to the start.

I’m functional at best in the morning, so it was tough going! However, I really enjoy an early morning run, so while breakfast and getting ready would be a struggle, running – I hoped – would not!

This year’s start line was not the nervy place to be that last year’s had proved. I felt that I knew my surroundings and it helped that I bumped into a friend from work and we chatted for a few minutes until it was almost time to line up. In short, I didn’t have time for nerves. However, I still felt a strange mixture of concern about my fitness and hope that I could run a sub 50 minute 10k.

I won’t bore you with a detailed commentary of the race, perish the thought. I for one don’t particularly want to relive it anymore!

However, it’s safe to say that it was tough. It started to rain on the first long, uphill stretch and I heard someone near me let out a little cheer about this. I should have tripped them up. Thankfully, it stopped shortly after.

The course is described as undulating, but let me tell you that the undulation feels largely uphill when you’re out there. I managed to forget any race plan I might have had and instead went off quickly (for a man of my vintage and physical state, that is). My competitive side kicked in here and I was more concerned with passing people, than thinking about how far I’d gone and how I was feeling. I’d regret this later. I told myself that I’d be able to power through and just keep the pace going, but it’s safe to say that miles 3 and 4 saw me slow more than I’d have liked.

By the time we turned for home and the last couple of miles or so, my legs were like jelly, a substance which for years I was quietly convinced that they may have actually been made out of. Quite a bit of the last half of this race is uphill though, a fact that my mind had rather inconveniently forgotten, so it was pretty difficult to keep on going at any pace, although I managed. For the first time in a long time though I found myself thinking I should just stop, as a few people had. I had a bit of aa word with myself though and kept going.

The final mile or so of the Pontefract 10k is downhill and I was looking forward to just powering down the hill. However, having used up so much energy already my body wasn’t responding in the way I wanted. I imagined a Mo Farah like kick where I just passed runner after runner. Instead, I was much more akin to Moe from The Simpsons as I grumbled my way down the last stretch.

Pleasingly, I did pick up my pace a bit though and kept a close eye on the time via Strava, so I knew exactly where I was with my personal best in mind. Passing my wife and son just before the last 250 metres, I knew I had to go faster, but was convinced that there was nothing left in the legs…not even jelly. However, as someone passed me within the first few metres, something in me flicked a bit of a switch – my competitive side again – and before I knew it I was sprinting. More like a middle aged man laden down with bags on a train platform than Usain Bolt, but sprinting all the same.

I crossed the line in 51.27, a good 25 seconds better than I’d ran the previous year and inside my personal best. I wasn’t sure I’d stay on my feet or even conscious, but I’d done what I’d set out to do! Never had 250 metres felt so long!

Cramp set in as I met my wife and son, but some stretches and a stroll back to car had me feeling a bit more comfortable. But I’d forgotten how much racing takes out of me. I can run 10k on a training run and feel reasonably good hours later and more or less back to normal the next day. Running a race just wipes me out.

The rest of Sunday was spent keeping busy, while also trying to relax, but I woke up on Monday morning feeling groggy to say the least! It’s now Wednesday and although the muscles are nowhere near as tender as they’d felt for the first couple of days of the week, I’d still quite like to just be at home napping rather than at work!

Training for this race was difficult. It was very ‘stop start’ as I seemed to just keep picking up niggling injuries or colds, meaning that some weeks I’d be running 20k and others I’d do 3k at best! I think a lot of what got me through was just sheer bloody-mindedness and a determination not to let myself down. Having got through it quite successfully I’m now planning my next race, which will probably be in Leeds in July, unless I can find something earlier that appeals. For now though, I’m just feeling my age and hoping to recover by the end of the month!