Starting off

175 years, a year of 175km of challenges is the way I'm calling it.

This year I'm planning to do 175km (or more) of events in order to raise money for Cancer research, so I'm starting this blog up to write up my experiences and evidence the km as they clock up.

The list currently looks like this:

Climb Snowdon - October 2017

Complete Tough 10 at Cornbury - November 2017

Milton Keynes HM December 2017

Ilmington Winter series 10K Feb 2018

Reading HM March 2018

Salcey Forest 6hr Ultra (well...it could be if I just keep going and going) April 2018

Hadrians Wall 35km August 2018

For those of you that know me, I'm not a natural runner, I have an over pronounced gait, a horse riding injury in my hip that hurts and a bunion. So if you're here because you're expecting glamorous shots of a svelte, toned, runner...jog on, this blog is not for you. Equally, if you're expecting professional tips, you're still in the wrong place. I might at times suggest something I've tried, but everything will only be things 'I' do that suit me and my running style.

Before

I'm far more at home on my yoga mat than plogging down a country lane. I hate hills, I hate bad weather, I hate being too hot, I hate being cold...so really there's not much hope other than the fact I am a determined sod who is stubborn and hates to give up.

The only way is up, then the only way is down with windmill arms!

This does not do justice to the ethereal beauty of the morning

I have run before. I have even done a half marathon before. I've walked miles before, completing the Thames Path 50km challenge and have walked 5 lake peaks in 14 hours. I've climbed Scafell Pike and have made my way down the side of Helvellyn on my arse, but I am not a seasoned runner, trail walker or sportswoman.

Sadly, dead, but cool, nonetheless.

Training began properly this morning with a beautiful 6 miler, out of my county and then round and back in again. Nothing ever looks better at the end of your run than this image:

Happy thoughts seeing the arrival back in my own county again.

It was fab. Me, no one else, barely a car passed me. The sun was up, the sky was blue and once I'd gotten over the awful 20 minute internal fight that me, my brain and my lungs seem to have, I was on a winner. By around mile 4 I was whirling my arms around and singing.

Look hard! It's a peacock! Yes, a damned peacock. Bet you don't see those very often out running in the country!

It dawned on me that I was probably plogging at around a 10 minute mile, I was comfy, nothing hurt too much, apart from my foot. 6.2 miles would be 6.2 miles whether I was within a certain time limit or not, so why not enjoy it. As I made my final descent back into my own county, my fit bit vibrated on my arm giving me the pleasure of achieving my 10,000 steps before 8.30am. Yeah...I can do this!

Selfie at mile 6...this was the beautifully captured moment that all my face descended with my down step. Pretty gorgeous no? ;-)