I’d never done a Dirty Dozen before, but my god, had I heard about them. Doug ‘The Beard’ Spence has near legendary status within OCR and a reputation for putting on a good show over a slightly longer distance than advertised. I knew vaguely what to expect, but I didn’t foresee how I would react to the challenges the course presented. That is, to say, I think I had a mental breakdown. Continue reading
For approximately 3k in any race, I pretty much want to die, stop running, give up OCR, take up knitting, or start creating a basic shelter in surrounding woodland in which I can hibernate. In short, it takes me a while to warm up. By about 4k, I start to feel positive about the fact that I’m getting into the swing of it, finding a sensible pace and not overtly negative about my life choices. By the end of the race, I’ve forgotten what my stupid brain was whining about and I’ve got my game face on for a sprint finish. Continue reading
I had to make a slight amendment to #WhyIRace at the weekend, because I found a new motivator and a new reason – forcing my mum into doing some exercise.
Although she’ll kill me for saying so, I’m not sure my mum has been in a gym for 15 years. When we were 1.5k into our Race For Life: Pretty Muddy run on Saturday, this figure jumped to 20 years. Continue reading
Well. I underestimated that one.
Mud Monsters looks like a pretty small outfit – the tone set by the website created a rather easy-going, approachable, first-timers welcome, it’ll-be-a-laugh sort of vibe. The tickets were incredibly well priced, and I thought, “may as well”. I fully expected it to be a glorified dog agility ring in a farmer’s back garden.
It wasn’t. Continue reading
Well, this was unexpected. I had not actually planned to run Nuclear Rush last weekend, but as luck would have it, my acute jealousy coincided with a place becoming available with the Mudstacle team. Extended, kind, ticket-bearing hand bitten off, and I was in the car with the dog in tow with the promise of a borrowed tent and sleeping bag. Prepared, I was not. I’d only got Haribo and 9 bars to survive on. This, I must point out, is not my usual camping style Continue reading