From donut slobbess to running goddess

Updated: Mar 22, 2019

I'm going to give you guys the honest truth when it comes to my marathon training. That I promise. The good, the bad, and even the ugly blistered feet. (Yuk!)

Let's start from day dot.

British Book Bash book signing in Newcastle, UK

Once upon a drunken time, I decided it would be hilarious to sign up to do a half-marathon; a very famous half-marathon as it has people that attend from all over the world. For reference, it’s called the Great North Run (Shortened to GNR throughout this blog.)

To get into the GNR you have to “sign up” for a ballot place in the hopes that out of thousands upon thousands of people that you are a chosen one.

I’d never get chosen out of hundreds of thousands of people, right?

Wrong. So inexplicably wrong.

My big fat slap in the face

My mum, who had also entered but for genuine reasons, sent me a text telling me that I, Queen of the donuts, was going to be her running partner because she had been accepted. Yes, me... running! Gasp!

I laughed and immediately opened my email because I had no idea the places were being handed out that day—remember that I signed up on a drunken whim so I had no idea how any of it really worked—and to my ultimate horror, there was the congratulatory email staring at me.

A big fat slap of drunken stupidity.

I swore a lot of course but resigned to the fact that I was indeed going to be running a half-marathon, I sent my mum a reluctant reply with a screenshot and told her I was happy I wasn’t going to be dying alone.

Which takes me to my next thought I had: If I was going to be doing this, then I was going to make it count for something. My mum had already chosen her worthy charity and I wanted to choose the perfect one for me.

I researched for a week until I found Refuge, a charity that helps women and children recover and get their lives back after going through the horrifying experience of domestic violence. Without going into details because this isn’t about my story, it was a charity close to my heart from the moment I set my eyes on it. I emailed their fundraising coordinator straight away and told her I wanted to run for them. I wanted to do something that mattered a great deal to so many women.

The moment I received my GNR training T-shirt and the vest for Refuge that I’d be wearing on the day of the marathon, my legs turned to jelly. I was really going to do this.

Although to some running 13 miles is nothing, to someone who hates running (even though I ran cross country in school but haven’t ran since then,) it’s a huge freaking deal.

Which brings me to tell you that I’ve started training (cries inside) and it’s going well (I still don’t like it) but more on that in my next blog post.

Until then... ima sleep now.

If anyone of you would like to donate, even the smallest amount would help, here is the link:

And if you wanted to read up more on Refuge, you can here:

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