Oh My God, We Get to Run Again, (and the different tones of voice we use when we say that)

Firstly, I'm going to apologise to everyone who saw this title or opened the blog and immediately thought, oh God, she's talking about running again. This blog was never created for me to talk about running. It was kind of a writing, mental health and me thing, so whilst running fits in the latter two, the former it has absolutely no relevance to, and for that I do apologise. However, it's important to me, so here we go. 

When COVID struck mass participation events dropped like flies and we moved to virtual races which were incredible in some ways - doing the virtual London marathon I had the opportunity to pee and visit my water station in the porch roughly every point eight miles which was really helpful. I didn't go on every loop, but it was helpful to know that if I needed to, it was there - but in other ways it sucked because no running buddies, not crowd, no kids with high five for power up signs and no desire to touch them even if there were because that just sounds like a pit of germs and nastiness to me right now. As we moved into 2021 it was almost like there was a promise that it was coming back: the feeling, the events, the crowds, the cheering, the charity work and everything else that comes with mass participation sporting events. But in the same way, the pages of the calendar turned over and we were, and are, still wearing masks, still taking tests, still getting briefings about scary numbers of people infected with a virus that has decimated populations of vulnerable people and also killed innumerable people deemed to be fit and healthy and at a lower risk. 

Runners like me have struggled to get back into training because the belief wasn't there that it was coming back. We can't even go to parkrun yet, with most venues being under a thousand participants, so how on Earth are we going to get to London to share a start line with thousands of other runners - around fourteen thousand for London Landmarks Half Marathon and fifty thousand for London Marathon - in just weeks. There's been a part of me that has been screaming IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!! Well, boo to that, because in two weeks time, London Landmarks is happening, and in less than eighty days, less time than it took to Phileas Fogg to circumnavigate the entire globe (I brought writing nerdery into it somehow!!) London Marathon is happening, and I am not the only one who is not ready.

On the Facebook groups for all of the races I'm involved in this year, there's a lot of people coming to the realisation that training has been horrendous, people have had COVID, been pinged to self-isolate and whilst a man in, I think it was France, managed to run a marathon on his six meter balcony, not everyone has a six meter balcony, or a six meter garden, or six clear minutes where their kids, whose bubble have been sent home from school due to a positive COVID test which may or may not be due to a TikTok "hack" to be able to just run around the garden or spend thirty minutes running up and down the stairs like a loon in place of training. Gyms are open, but a lot of people go to the gym where they work and are currently working from home. This year has still been complicated in terms of training - somewhat more and somewhat less than last year. There will be people who have had extra time to be able to run and are fitted than they predicted they would be and I wish them so well on the road to their PBs, but there will also be those of us who wanted to be in a better position than we are right now and are bricking it about how we're going to survive to the end of something SO LONG. 

I've spent the last few days saying hello to a lot of the folks who are worried that they won't finish, because they have never joined the back of the pack. The back of the pack is potentially going to be a lot bigger this year and it's something I am so here for. If more 'casual athletes' learn that being at the back of the pack doesn't suck as long as we're together, hopefully it can stop some of the utter crap like saying that London marathon isn't a walking race, and we shouldn't be allowed seven and a half hour pacers. Let me tell you, a long marathon time is not easier to achieve than a short one. Yes, Kipchoge is an utter legend for running under two hours - and that's something I'm not getting into a debate over, it was a feat to stay at that pace for so long - but it's two hours and then you can go and get a sports massage or get your massage gun out, you can get in your hot tub or whatever your recovery protocol is, you can get on that. For those who are on for a seven, eight hour or longer time, that's three and a half to four times as long on your feet. That's longer that your back has to keep you upright and moving forward. It's a lot longer to keep your head in the game and not let that self doubt tell you that you can't do this. I'm not trying to devalue speedy athletes and fast runners - I really admire them - but my hope is that if there are more of us at the back of the pack this year, I hope the experience changes things. London Marathon 2019 changed things for the back of the pack and I'm glad it did, but we are still not at the point where there is the respect for "slower runners" that they deserve from the feat of endurance that they go through, often for charities, but also to prove to themselves that they can. For myself, I have to battle all of my own demons, so to have someone else telling me I'm fat and slow is just unkind. 

My sincere hope is that this year sets the scene for a return to mass participation events, but not a reset to how things were before. I hope we come back kinder, and come back stronger and with more unity. I would love to see anything which encourages those bringing up the rear to keep going - from the party bus that was proposed for last year to keep the music going to the option for faster finishers to rejoin the back and keep everyone moving. If it's not about the winning, it's about the taking part, it's about all of us taking part, not just those who finish in an average time or those reaching for a PB, especially not this year. Let's just be happy to be out, in a crowd and back to doing something we love. (Even if we don't love it so much on the day because it's hard and it hurts.)

The Disappointment of Falling for You,

From the moment I knew I was buying the house, I knew I was going to get a dog. To be completely honest, I would have an entire pack of dogs if I could, but at the very least, I want a single dog. I have been writing to a lot of rescues and applying for lots of different dogs and it has been difficult because lots of people are applying for the same dogs and it has been very disappointing. And then I saw a pair of dogs that I fell a little bit in love with. They were nothing that I had asked for, but they were sweet and they were beautiful and I was besotted. 

One of the girls was an old girl in a toy breed. She is in a bit of pain due to arthritis, but otherwise well, which is baffling due to her age. The other girl was a cross with a breed I would never have considered (think pug or Jack Russell or similar) cross with another one that wouldn't be my first choice (lurcher, greyhound, whippet sort of idea) but the pair of them together melted my little heart. I contacted the rescue constantly, and they kept me in the loop with medical issues and tests so that I could let them know that none of it was worrying me in terms of adopting them. Okay, the little old girl needs a comfy bed to sleep on (she can have a memory foam bottom one for the living room and she's probably going to sleep on my bed upstairs) and regular vets visits, the younger of the two is a bit of a live wire and needs good exercise (so she can run like a mad hatter all around the garden as well as have a few walks a day where her sister can either plod or be carried in a puppy bag - I'm not a big fan of puppy pushchairs personally). Everything was going well and I was due to meet them ahead of getting a home check done on my place and then being able to go and collect the girls and bring them home to live with me. 

Unfortunately, it seems that was not to be. 

I'm going to emphasise that the rescue did nothing wrong. They were asked to care for and rehome a pair of dogs belonging to a person who became seriously ill and was no longer able to care for their pets. A family member surrendered the pets to the rescue, the rescue explained that this would legally transfer ownership to them, and that was that. They cared for the girls. However, the owner has recovered from their illness, which they were not expected to do, and is understandably fuming with the actions of their family member. 

Although I know that the best thing for these girls is to go back to the home they know and the person that they know, it is utterly heartbreaking when you've started to plan for welcoming a particular little personality into your home and your life and then you find out that, for whatever reason, they are not coming. It's devastating because you get excited about these things, and you imagine what your life will look like with them. 

I think the important thing that this raises as well though is to make plans for your pets. Very often we take on a pet with the knowledge that the span of their life is likely to be limited, and we will likely go through the pain of losing them, but it's important to make a plan for what happens if you are unexpectedly taken ill or if, heaven forbid, anything happens to you before your pet. 

For me, I know my parents would take on my dogs if I took ill, or if anything happened to me, but we also know that we like different dogs, and the mad spaniels I am besotted with might not fit into their lives overly well, so one of the things they know about is which rescue my dogs came from, so where they should be contacting if they need support, or if they needed to rehome. They know which rescues I have contact with and have worked with, so where I would want my dog(s) to go to. 

Whilst I am really disappointed and still quite upset that I won't be having the girls come and live with me, I trust that the rescue will only return them when they are well assured that the girls will be properly cared for, and that at some point very soon, someone with four legs and a big heart will come padding into my life, and it's going to be fabulous when they get here. Until then, I will keep looking for them, and making sure that their home is ready when they are.