Pride before a fall

(This is a column that was in the paper from before Christmas but thought some of you might enjoy it so posted it despite it being rather late!)

On Saturday I took part in my first ever trail run. I have done plenty of road running in my time and this year have started participating in races, taking part in a 10k and half marathon. I’ve even enjoyed them! Consequently, in the run up (pun intended I’m afraid!) to the Cockington Christmas Capers run, I was a little relaxed, verging on cocky (intentional again). It was 8 miles. I run 8 miles regularly as part of my training for next year’s marathon (more on that later). I didn’t need to make any special effort, I was just going to turn up and run it. Job’s a good ‘un as they say.

Well. Two things. Firstly, trail running is a whole different kettle of fish to road running. (Why didn’t anyone tell me!?) And secondly, it was, without exaggeration, the hardest sporting endeavour that I have ever taken part in. I think the word used to describe courses such as Cockington is the innocent sounding ‘undulating’. I estimate perhaps 10-20% of the course was flat, the rest was up huge muddy hills in the forest or down steep steps covered in wet leaves. I was running with an incredibly fit friend of mine who kindly stayed at my slow, often staggering pace and without him, I don’t think I’d have finished.

I was less than two miles in when I first thought the fatal thought…I can’t do this. The hills were too steep, the ground too slippy, I had had too little sleep (thanks kids!), I obviously just wasn’t made for trails. But by the water point halfway round I’d remembered a conversation between two ladies that I’d overheard during the Great West Run. They had devised thirteen different conversation topics for each mile of the run in order to keep their minds distracted from the running. I had a bit of a moment and realised that I was perfectly capable of running it, but only if my head was in the right place. So I switched back to annoyingly chirpy, put on my big girl pants and got on with it.

And you know what, I finished the race. I think I’d say that I’m glad that I did it and I’d probably even do it again. Speaking of which…that marathon I mentioned? Turns out that I signed up for something without fully looking into it. Not only is it a marathon but it’s on trails, not road and is described as ‘brutal’ and in the top ten of toughest marathons in the UK. I’m feeling slightly apprehensive but I’ve got six months to train and I haven’t fallen over yet. Watch this space!

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