Time for some truths

Today marked the end of week 7 of the 16 week plan. So in 9 weeks time I'll (hopefully) have just completed the London Marathon, and be the extremely proud owner of something like this picture here. But let's be honest, running VLM is about way more than just a beautiful bit of bling to add to my ever-increasing collection. When I first started my VLM journey in October last year I encountered a lot of doubters, a lot of sniggers where I just knew they were wondering how soon until I would give up, and a lot of people who thought that anyone who has ever had an eating disorder could only be wanting to train for a marathon for one reason, to speed up weight loss and have a legitimate reason to exercise excessively.

To be honest, running a marathon wasn't on my radar. I never considered myself good enough to run 26.2 miles all in one go at one of the world's most prestigious running events. So when one of the events team from Mind suggested I apply for a charity place to run VLM I had to have a really good think. The more I thought about it, about the commitment involved, the heavy training and the race itself, I realised I REALLY wanted to get a place, and although it would've been a lot easier to have got a ballot place and not have the stress of raising a lot of money, I really wanted to fund raise for Mind. It just seems right to me that a monumental physical effort should go hand in hand with a monumental amount of money raised to a charity close to my heart.

So far I have raised over £1900 for Mind to run VLM. That's 110% of my required total, and I'm hoping to get more during the next few weeks. But what does that money actually go on?

£10 could send information booklets out to 30 people... So with £1900, 5700 could receive a booklet about mental health, that just might help them to understand their own illness or that of a family member or a friend.

£15 could enable someone to take part in a group therapy session... So £1900 could fund over 125 group therapy sessions.

You get the idea. This money isn't going to finance fat cats sat in their offices driving expensive cars, it's giving people the chance to seek help, talk to someone and get legal advice when they have lost their jobs or their homes due to mental illness.

Sometimes it's really hard to talk to people you know about intrusive thoughts, fears and how you feel in general. People are judgemental, and with the stigma carried by mental health, it seems that people would much rather band together and kick somebody when they're down than stand up and say they don't understand it but they are there. From personal experience I can say that most people who are in the depths of despair and stood facing the abyss don't want someone to have all the answers or make it better, all they want is that human connection and to know that someone is there. I've lost count of the number of times people have told me they don't know anything about mental health so they don't know how to help, but I always think that is a massive cop out. I have friends who have battled cancer, who struggle with MS and who have brittle asthma resulting in incredibly lengthy hospital stays. I am neither an oncologist, nor a neurologist, nor a respiratory physician, but I don't need to be; all I need is to be compassionate, caring and there when needed. What is it about mental illness that gets people so on edge?

Steam cabinet

The steam cabinet was used circa 1910 as a way of "calming patients down" if they suffered from "nervousness" or "jitters". This was at a time when anyone with any psychiatric malady was treated in an asylum for the insane, and having entered, they rarely left again. This was at a time when lobotomies were becoming increasingly common, and patient abuse depressingly frequent.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

Fast forward a few years to the 1960s and the book (then later the film) One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest was released. This is really gritty. The patients have a variety of conditions, some of them genuinely psychiatric in nature such as being delusional and paranoid, but many of them suffering physical illnesses such as epilepsy and stuttering. The head nurse is somewhat sadistic and enjoys humiliating patients and controlling them severely, punishing misbehaviour with courses of ECT.

Is this how people today consider mental illness? Is this what people are afraid of?

Depression

This is a more realistic picture of mental illness. Depression. There's nothing scary about this woman. I look at her and I see myself, the look in her eyes, the darkness and sadness veiling her face. This is why I'm running for Mind. For people like her whose friends probably tell her to pull herself together, keep her chin up, stop being negative, etc. You CAN'T snap out of it. And sometimes you get to a state where the will to live has gone long before the body actually takes the hint. But that doesn't need locking away, or sectioning, or alienating. It needs love, and kindness and the security of having somewhere there for those dark moments where you just need a friend.

So that's why I'm supporting Mind. 

And I tell you what, this marathon lark is bloody hard work. Today I set off out on my long run, completely inadequately fuelled as stresses of the week had meant I'd eaten very little, poorly rested as I'm struggling to sleep at present, alone with only my negative gremlins for company, and out in the perishingly cold weather. I decided to run to Long Eaton and Sawley to deliver some virtual run medals and thus save on postage and fuel. It was FREEZING. Then halfway in the heavens opened and ice cold rain just fell from the sky. I must admit now, I do love my Sunday long runs but today I was miserable. By the time I'd delivered the third medal I was soaked from the inside due to sweat, and soaked from the outside due to the rain. Then the temperature dropped. About 11 miles in and 4 miles from home my lovely husband Larry texted me and offered to pick me up in the car, but despite every fibre of my being saying yes yes yes, I said no thank you. Why did I say this? I'm stubborn and proud, and it felt like it'd be a major sign of failure to accept help. So I kept plodding on and on. On my way through Chilwell the pavement narrowed making me quite close to the vehicles on the road, and I noticed the odd few - usually Ford Transit drivers - seemed to drive closer to the kerb and accelerate as they passed me, attempting to cover me in a wave of rain water. Unbeknown to them I have pretty fast reflexes, and managed to jump over the incoming torrents and somehow didn't get any wetter. The urge to flip them the birdie was quite strong but to be honest I was cold and tired and they weren't worth it. I finally finished after 15.61 miles in the most horrendous conditions, and promptly showered off and joined the rest of my family at soft play. At least if the weather is bad for my forthcoming races I will be well prepared and very experienced!

On a final note, this little guy has served his time and is now allowed out for walks. Give it a few months and we'll be having our first runs together.

Freedom for Barney!

Smoke and mirrors

"Smoke and mirrors" is a metaphor that a friend recently used to describe my blog. She meant it in a non-malicious sense, meaning that when I write on here I use a more positive spin than necessarily is present in real life. And she was right. But in all honesty, I am someone who struggles to wear their heart on their sleeve in the public eye. 

I have depression, and anyone who has suffered from genuine depression (as opposed to just feeling down) knows that it can take you to some very dark lonely places. Depression is basically pathological sadness. Sometimes there is a cause, sometimes there isn't. Sometimes it's there just because. The black dog is a useful metaphor for depression, and if you haven't seen the video on it, the link is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiCrniLQGYc It's well worth a look.

Black dogs are getting a bad press!

I was about 4 or 5 when I was first diagnosed as depressed. For me, I have an organic depression which basically means my brain doesn't have the right serotonin receptors, so I will probably always be on medication. When life throws curve balls at me I develop a more reactive component to it, which is what most people would call "depression". But I have lived with this for most of my life, so I've learnt to manage it. Alongside the depression I have a co-morbidity of anorexia, and this is the thing I struggle with most of all. Anorexia is like a spider; it lures you into its web by sticking you down bit by bit, ever so carefully and methodically, and when you're stuck it pulls you in and devours you. It is both sanctuary and torturous, and while I thought I had shaken free of its tangled web for several years, part of me was still snared and when I was vulnerable it started to pull me back in again, piece by piece.

Running and anorexia may be able to coexist, but marathon training and anorexia cannot. At the end of last year my intake was 500 calories a day, and at first it wasn't an issue and didn't affect my performance, but bit by bit I began to get more dizzy and weak, and started fainting during sessions. When I began my 16 week training plan in January I was too weak to run just 2km, and it was then that I realised that to live my marathon dream I had to increase my intake. With the support of Larry and TT I increased to 800 calories a day, and hard though it was I began to have more energy to run and started to make progress again. I was told that while I will happily have an apple as breakfast and/or lunch, if I want to keep doing PT sessions I need to eat a "proper" breakfast, along the lines of porridge. And it is this pre-fuelling that has proven the hardest part of my training. If I don't eat, I get very dizzy and/or pass out. If I do eat, I get the emotional implications of having eaten more such as guilt, but then I can run better, faster, further. It's exhausting. I feel alone such a lot of the time, even when in company, but equally I withdraw from society and only show people what they want to see.  

For me, running sets my mind free. With all the inner arguments about eating, all the guilt and worry about the next meal, plus the always-present black fog, I can turn all that off when I run. Running silences all of that and gives me peace for a little while. Sometimes that doesn't work, and my attempts to cheat myself at pre-fuelling catch up with me, resulting in me sitting on a bench in the park sobbing because yet again I let anorexia win and mess up my long run. 

So why am I writing about all this? I have recently faced some of the ignorance and stigma that Mind works hard to stamp out. The unknown causes a great deal of fear to many people, we are often frightened by what we don't understand, that's human. But I am an honest and open person, and if people come to me and ask me how things really are for me, I will do my best to talk to them about it. I cannot abide Chinese whispers, it hurts me when people question my truth and more so when they question my ability to parent my children because of my illness. 

So in April I will run the London Marathon, and I will wear my Mind vest with pride. The marathon isn't just the 26.2 miles I will run on April 26th, it began way back in January with every meal, every day I didn't want to get up out of bed, every day I went out training when I was exhausted and hungry. I am lucky that I have the ability to take a stand and represent people who are in a much worse state than me. But for now I will fly the flag, for myself, for my supporters and for Mind.

Eureka! 20 miles!

This is the post I have imagined writing with an equal sense of anticipation and dread. I was hoping to be able to say "hurrah, I managed 20 miles, yippee" and that kind of thing. I was dreading having to write "tried and failed to run 20 miles". I'm not sure when my head is actually going to come to terms with the fact that, in all truth told, I'm a "proper" runner, and a pretty decent one at that, because I totally nailed yesterday's run. It was the longest run I've ever done. Hell, I've never walked that far, not even as a Girl Guide (and I went to a pretty active Guide company!).

"The Higgs 20"

Sarah C and I set out from my house at 10. Initially we spent a fairly decent amount of time waving at the satellites in the sky to get a Garmin signal, which almost certainly looked crazy to anyone watching but is an essential part of using a GPS device! We pootled off up through Beeston towards Chilwell, having a good chat as we went, and I was surprised to see we were going between a 9 and 9:30 minute mile, which was pretty good going considering we were holding back somewhat. Chilwell was insanely busy for that time on a Sunday morning, and it was annoying having to slow at the big junctions, which seemed to take an age to cross. We got through Toton and hit Long Eaton more or less on schedule. However I hadn't anticipated the sheer amount  of time it would take to find our first pit stop, my lovely friend Sue's house. It really shouldn't have been hard; all we had to do was stick to one main road from Beeston right up to the turn off to Sue's, but I still had the antsy need to keep checking we were on track and hence slowed us down. But soon we were at Sue's, our first stopping point and where we were meeting Sarah A. 5 miles done.

Me, Sarah A and Sarah C

I absolutely love Sue Woollett, she is one of the world's genuinely nice people. Even when she has her own problems she is kind, thoughtful and generous, and she draws people to her. She introduced me to TT incidentally, something I am most grateful for. Sue met us with an open door and a big smile, and ice cold bottles of Lucozade sport. She did also have a chocolate cake cooking in the oven which smelt amazing, and I'm grateful that I wasn't hungry by that point or that would've been exquisite torture! It was incredibly reluctantly I left her lovely house to continue our journey (next time Sue you're coming with us!), but to stop for too long would be to stiffen up and get cold, which would make the remaining 15 miles pretty miserable.

The next town was Breaston. Sarah A turned round to me and Sarah C and said we're doing 5km non-stop. My first thought was "arghhhh I can't do that!" but I got my head down and surprised myself. She then became known as "Drill Sergeant Sarah", and we meekly followed her. I asked if it was ok to keep taking pictures of the town names as we went through and was told "only if you can do it running". To be honest I quite like being bossed around a bit, it makes me confront my own (usually wrong) beliefs about my ability, and I often surprise myself in the process. The next few towns seemed to go past in a blur of the constant pounding of our legs, and interesting sights including the world's most awesome treehouse and the hugest hare I've ever seen. After running that far you'd be amazed about what strikes you as fascinating! We passed through Draycott, Borrowash, Risley and Sandiacre, and that is where we said goodbye to Drill Sergeant Sarah, and Sarah C and I stopped at a newsagents for a bottle of water. 

At that point we had travelled 14 miles and were beginning to go a little wappy. Everything seemed funny and we were a bit silly. Fatigue was beginning to set in, but whereas a couple of weeks ago I was absolutely shattered by this point, I could still keep things going and keep the pace up. At 15 miles we hit Bramcote, and I felt relieved to see familiar ground. I decided to take Sarah around the park through the woods at the back, not just because I though some steep hills and steps would be just what our legs were craving at that point, but also because I thought it would do us some good to have a completely different change of terrain. With a number of squirrels that TT would've been jumping about with joy over, we hit the trails, not bothered if we weren't running much, just trying to allow our legs to recharge. Once out of the park we hit the roads again, this time headed for Wollaton. It was at this point that I pulled out my iPod and let the music give my exhausted legs a second life. And it really did help, I felt partially renewed and able to continue. At 18 miles I decided to try a gel for the first time. I've had dextrose energy tablets before, jelly belly sports bean and gel bloks, but never a gel. I know they can give you nausea, diarrhoea and/or stomach cramps so I wanted to make sure I was close to home before trying one. I opened it up, swallowed it down, the most revolting sweet, gloopy muck I've ever tried, then waited. A few seconds later it was like, PING!! Sugar hit extraordinaire!!! I felt like someone had plugged me into the mains, and suddenly my legs felt powered up. 

Holy sugar hit Batman!!!

Digging as deep as I've ever dug, I managed to get through the final 2 miles until we'd got back to my house, having run 20 miles in 3 hours 55 minutes. There was only one thing to do after a celebratory hug with Sarah, and that was to go home and see my ever-patient husband who had waited all day for me to complete my run, down an ice-cold can of diet coke (this is always my post long run ritual), then enjoy an ice bath to reduce inflammation in my poor hard-worked legs. This time I was so tired I stayed in the ice bath for a lot longer than usual; it took way more effort to get out than it does to stay in it, so I just sat there!

To say I'm proud of my efforts yesterday in an understatement. I am very grateful to the Sarahs, especially Sarah C who stayed with me for the full 20 miles, because the company distracted me from my usual running gremlins who tell me to stop running and head home. I genuinely thought I would need to walk most of the way, so to have run at least 80% of the distance is an amazing achievement. I think a big part of my success was down to fuelling better. I struggled so much on Friday and Saturday to increase my intake, especially the carbohydrates, and I still could've had more than I did. But for me that was a major effort and achievement. I'd like to say I'll be able to maintain an increased intake permanently from now on, but I know that is a bit too optimistic for me at present. However, maybe for long runs such as yesterday's I will be able to confront my demons and pollute my body with food in order to get the best out of it. Maybe.

In all my preparation for yesterday's run, I hadn't anticipated how I would handle the post-run recovery stage. I was absolutely famished when I got back; having missed lunch and burnt off 2000 calories during the run I pretty much inhaled my dinner. With the children away for the week and Larry at work for the evening, I fell asleep in front of the TV and woke up at 9pm dribbling onto the cushion, deciding that an early night was best. 

Completing 20 miles was a major milestone for me. Suddenly completing the London Marathon seems doable, and getting a decent time possible. I am less scared of my forthcoming races the Silverstone half and Ashby 20, and my self-confidence has sky-rocketed. I wish my success wasn't so closely related to eating more food, because that poses a greater dichotomy in my head. But success is success, and right now I'm flying because of it. Thank you to my lovely friend Sue for being so lovely and welcoming to us, and thanks also to the Sarahs who kept me company. Thanks to Jane who always believes in me and whom inspired me to run in the first place.A big thanks to TT who prepped me brilliantly for the run and patiently listened when I worried that I wouldn't be able to do it, then reminded me how far I've already come and got me thinking more positively. But a big thank you to my husband Larry who has to manage without me every Sunday when I do my increasingly-longer runs and never moans, and listens to all my prattle about running and never begrudges me from entering races. With a team like you guys behind me, how can I possibly fail?!

20 miles: done! Time for feet up now...

Overwhelmed

This past week has been overwhelming in so many ways. At times I feel suffocated by the sheer amount of things I have to do, details I need to remember and places I have to be. I am EXHAUSTED by it all and there's always the perfectionistic side of me berating myself at not performing whatever it is to a high enough standard. A lot of it is marathon-related. Not just training but fundraising, organising my virtual run medals to post as results come in, thinking about training, recovering from training, struggling with myself (and often failing) to try and eat as close to "normal" as possible and generally living, sleeping and breathing VLM. My self-esteem is fragile, and it doesn't take a lot to send me into the depths of self-doubt.....can I actually run a marathon?

This is kinda obvious...

Me on balloon duty

But this week, a big box was ticked off in my marathon journey: I hit my fundraising target! Back in October last year the target of £1750 seemed insanely huge, and I was often worried that me and Larry would have to make up the difference. And I don't think that would've made me very popular!! So on Saturday, Larry and I joined a team of amazing people down in Ettington (near Stratford), and for several hours we worked really hard to get a lovely little hall ready for a Parkinson's and Mind dinner dance.

The set up was pretty labour intensive; giant vats of chilli were cooked, over 100 jacket potatoes were baked, the stage was assembled ready for the band, tables had to be laid out and dressed, fairy lights were strung up and banners and bunting hung. But the MOST important job, integral to the success of the entire evening was the inflating of the balloons with helium by yours truly (with some help from Larry)! While we were all working hard I kept having to check myself because of the overwhelming thought that kept coming to me: all those people setting up were there for ME. Sarah Ward is an incredible lady. Diagnosed at a young age with Parkinson's, she has worked like fury to raise as much money for this terrible illness as she can. Last year she cycled from Paris to London raising vast amounts of money for the charity, and she has thrown several parties like this one in previous years. I am so privileged to have had her help with this fundraising venture, and I attribute its success largely to her hard work and tenacity. My mother in law, Sonia, has also been tremendously helpful, and I'm lucky that her generosity of time enables me to not just train, but fundraise through events such as this.

Sarah and Sonia

"Be a tiger" said Toby, so I was...

Janice Carole

During the dinner we were fortunate enough to have a performance by Janice Carole (www.janicecarole.com), a talented singer who generously gave us her time. Yet again, it was another person who was helping us to make the evening a success, and I'm very grateful to her.

The Rocky Road Band with Sarah and Sonia

Then once the food was all gone, The Rocky Road Band started to play and got the whole dance hall dancing the rest of the night away. And may I add, whilst I jokingly said that the collective age of this band was close to 200, these guys are AWESOME! I would definitely book them again, and they were good evidence that old can still be sexy. They owned that stage, and even had a number with Sarah and Sonia. With my share of the money raised that evening totalling £930, my fundraising target has been smashed! What a relief to have that pressure off. The next thing to worry about is the running itself.

When I'm with TT I feel like I could do pretty much anything; the guy literally sweats positivity and self-affirmation. But the past week has been a tough one. Following on from my stupendous 15 mile run on the Sunday, my running ability seems to have fizzled out somewhat. Monday went ok but on Tuesday I was struggling. I was so exhausted and collapsed on the Tuesday Larry needed to come home early from work to help me with the children. Wednesday was my designated rest day, and with TT still ill on Thursday I went to do body step and body pump but either my chest infection or lack of fuelling got to me and I fainted during step. I made up for it by training harder on the Friday, but my self-esteem - especially when it comes to my running - is very fragile. A great run can leave me feeling on top of the world and believing that anything is possible, whereas a bad run (ie one in which I've struggled) makes me question the whole thing and contemplate giving up.

I've got so many balls I'm trying to juggle right now I feel completely overwhelmed. Training is a large part of it; I live, eat, breathe running and VLM right now. My virtual run takes up a lot of my time. I'm planning a return to medical school so am trying to get hands on experience as and when I can. Then there's being the chair of the school PTA, having 3 children under 5 and organising my son's 5th birthday party to name but a few. On top of all that my mood seems stuck in my boots so much of the time, I'm still not eating anywhere near enough to support my training and I sleep badly. I often feel like I've taken on too much, but I'm so incredibly stubborn - often to my detriment - and I will not take on something I cannot compete. So for now it's full steam ahead, trying to keep on top of what I can, relying on my amazing friends and family to carry me through the rest. And I really, really need my friends and family right now. Even if they don't actually do anything. I just need to know that when I'm running through the darkness, I'm not alone.

Milestones

This past week has been an eventful one for me. Saturday saw my one year "runiversary". One year?!!! Where did that time go?! It was a year ago that I first set foot on a treadmill at Eden Hall Day Spa (yes, I know, most people go there to relax not start a new passion...) and squeezed out 1km. I was so proud of myself I texted all my friends something along the lines of "I've just run 1km! How awesome is that?!". Looking back I am grateful to all the people who were suitably enthusiastic, because with retrospect, running 1km is really not that big a deal. But back then it felt huge. So what was the most appropriate way to celebrate this running milestone? By running of course! It so happened that Virtual Runner UK had a half marathon medal for January, so I enlisted the company of some of the NWR girls and planned to run 13.1 miles to celebrate.

Slippy slidey

Things didn't quite work out as planned as the night before the run my daughter was very unwell and was up frequently throughout the night. As a result I woke up shattered and there was no way I could run for 9am, so I delayed for a few hours and set out alone. It was a hard run, as the ground was icy and boggy and I needed to walk every so often to negotiate the hazards. But bit by bit I ate into the miles and several hours later I was so proud to have run 15 miles! That was my furthest ever, and oh my goodness was I ever exhausted. In fact I think I slightly began to go a bit nuts from mile 12, because I was muttering positive affirmations to myself and general trying to convince my legs that it really wasn't that big a deal to go just a bit further. I started crying at the end upon realising that I will still need to run an additional 11 miles on race day, but I'm hoping the additional 80-odd days of training I have yet to do will stand me in better stead. But for now I can say with pride, I did it! I ran 15 miles on my own with only my husband and TT there to support me and help me through by text. And look at what I got for my efforts:

A nice bit of bling

Sunday was my birthday and I was grateful to have a day off running, although I did do a recovery run to free up my legs a bit. I'm finding that ice baths have a very positive effect the day after a LR, and by wearing a thick jumper whilst in one I can tolerate the coldness of it a lot better. The main issues I have after LRs now are not so much discomfort, as the bath takes a lot of the inflammation away, but the fact that my legs are just blimming tired and have no interest in taking me far at all!

My fundraising is going really well so far. I've hit the £900 mark, and that's not including the money from the virtual run my fellow Mind runner Helen is doing with me, nor does it include the proceeds from the charity dinner dance being held in my honour this coming Saturday. I'm hoping that in the next couple of months I will have hit my £1750 target, then any more is a bonus. It's so humbling seeing how many people have signed up to the virtual run. I couldn't have set it up so professionally without the help of Dan Batten who allowed me to piggyback onto his domain doo-ja-ma-flit (can you tell I'm fluent in computer lingo?!), and the amazing people at Team Strides sporting medals who have provided the beautiful medals. We still have a few spaces in adults' and children's runs left, so have a look at www.run4mind.virtualrun.org.uk if you fancy a try.

And finally, some things that I have learnt this past year as a runner. Take a look at the following:

Knees! The number of times I have been told that I am subjecting myself to a future of knee replacements, crutches, and the like, and how terribly bad for you it is to run. Last week I was told by a few older men that out of all their friends who have had coronary heart disease, it's only the runners who fare so badly. Apparently the immobile unhealthy diet ones are the "healthiest" now. Really?!! And what do you say to people who are so resolute that your hobby, your passion, is so damaging? There have been a few articles circulating on Facebook this week, one said that if you are a fast runner you will certainly die and early death (or words to that effect), then today I saw a headline saying that joggers are more unhealthy than non-runners. I admit I couldn't be bothered to read that one. I mean, come on, it's running. It's what our bodies were meant to do. It's not like we're juggling live hand grenades or cuddling crocodiles. And besides, we all have to die of something, surely it's better to go doing something you live then getting old and rotting away bit by bit?
One question that drives me demented is before a race, to be asked "are you going to do a Paula Radcliffe?". My dad seems to think this is quite funny and asks me it every time. It seems to be the question non-runners ask runners. As though this amazing woman is not to be remembered for her athletic prowess, but rather because once she pooed at the side of the road during a race. Ask any runner, the brown turtle of doom has plagued us all at some point!  

So, going back to the list, my responses would be:

1. No reply, just a raised eyebrow and scathing look
2. I pay for the bling. And sometimes the bonus finishers top. Oh yeah and the experience!
3. Only in my dreams
4. Often, but that's what music and thoughts are for
5. Another scathing and disbelieving look here
6. A train that's seriously annoyed
7. You hear what inane stuff other people say and bash your head on a wall/tree
8. Nope *touch wood*
9. What about them?
10. You should see me when I haven't run!!
11. *smack*
12. Oh dear....
13. Don't bloody tempt me!
14. Google maps has saved me from that many a time!
15. You'd hope so seeing as I spend most of my life doing it!!
16. I'm a woman. I'm a runner. I need a pair of shoes for every mood/day/set of conditions!
17. Yes!!!
18. Yes. It makes me feel badass
19. Not when the wind's behind me
20. Don't be soft!
21. Possibly but again, I'm badass!
22. You're catching on, that's good...!
23. Yes, but it is the most delicious form of tiredness
24. Hahaha I have 3 children under 5! Those days are gone!
25. Blink and you'll miss me!!

And on that note I'll stop rambling for now, but if anyone fancies sponsoring me and showing support as I raise money for Mind and run the London Marathon, you can do so here www.justgiving.com/jennyhiggs and I'd be very grateful.