I got thinking as I ran through Hyde Park the other night about the fact it was actually quite dark in places, despite there being several lights and lots of people doing the same…and it got me thinking – what is the limit as to where I would stop ‘just nipping through’ and stick to the main roads? It then made me think about the countless other things I do before/during/after running that apparently are AWFUL and should never been done.
Yes, I do understand about running safety, and yes, you could say I am being naive because thus far, I’ve been extremely lucky and not had any incidents – and I want to say up front that there is no way I am trying to downplay anything from a personal safety perspective – but isn’t running ultimately about enjoying yourself and feeling free?
How did people train before the days of mobile phones, of Oyster cards that get you back from anywhere in a very large SW London radius, of shoes specifically designed to make you less likely to roll an ankle? I mean they were still doing it and managing to survive – so are we trying so hard to do things ‘right’ that we forget how to do things ‘fun’?
What could make me a bad runner…? Continue reading →
Ugh. It’s dark by the time I leave work. In fact it’s dark WAY before I leave work. It’s dark when I run before work. It’s dark when I run after work. My bike has had a puncture since last week and I haven’t had the enthusiasm to fix it to commute because it’s cold and dark and rainy (I mean I have another bike, but that is by the by)
Ok, so enough moaning – pretty sure every single person reading this is thinking ‘yup, tell me something I don’t know’. I feel like I do a pretty decent job of training over winter because it just has to get done and I do it, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t sometimes hard, or that I don’t sometimes forego a session for a night on the sofa…
So here goes – some bonafide tips and tricks to help you out over the coming months. Tested by yours truly.
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We’ve been talking about rugby a lot recently. Now for something completely different.
Hiking is great, I love it. You have an excuse to head out on an adventure in the great outdoors, with the wind in your hair and the mud squelching satisfyingly underfoot. Sometimes I consider plastering myself in blue face paint, wielding a big old stick and hurtling naked down a mountain side screeching “I AM QUEEN BOUDICA!”, but then I think it might just be easier to call one of my outdoorsy mates and suggest we take a jaunt up a big hill.
Harry’s victory over the scranble
Kate basking in foggy goodness
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