You’ve downloaded the app. You’ve told three people you’re “doing Couch to 5K now.” Your trainers are suspiciously white. Week one, day one – you head out the door feeling like a montage is about to start. It is not. What’s actually about to start is nine weeks of talking yourself out of quitting, discovering…
Right. So there you are, post-Parkrun, half a banana in hand, listening to that one bloke in the club who just ran a 38-minute 10K explain his entire training philosophy. Normally you’d tune out. But then he says something that actually makes sense: “I stopped doing doubles. Just singles. Norwegian style.” And now you’re intrigued,…
It’s two weeks before your marathon. You’ve done the big miles. You’ve earned the Sunday long runs, the 5am rain alarms, the black toenails, the chafing in places you’d rather not mention. You are, by any reasonable measure, a functioning adult who has trained hard and deserves a rest. And yet. Here you are. Googling…
Picture this. You’ve done the long runs. You’ve suffered through track intervals in horizontal rain wearing three-year-old trainers. You’ve set your alarm for 5am on a Sunday, peeled yourself out of bed like a sticker off a windscreen, and logged the miles. And yet – your 5k time hasn’t budged in six months. Not a…
Let me set the scene. It’s 6:47am. It’s raining – obviously it’s raining, this is Britain. Your alarm went off at 5am, you ignored it until 5:43, and now you’re standing at a race start line in a car park somewhere in the Midlands, wondering what possessed you to sign up for a 10K. You’ve…
Right. You’ve signed up. You’ve ironed your vest (nobody irons their vest, but stay with me), you’ve done a nervous wee, and you’re stood outside a leisure centre at 6:45am in the drizzle, wondering if joining a running club UK was the best decision you’ve ever made or the worst. Spoiler: it’s both. Simultaneously. At…
Let’s talk about marathon training confidence. Or more accurately, the slow crumbling of it somewhere around week 9 when your Sunday Long Run feels like a hostage situation and your easy pace suddenly feels illegal. You’re deep into the block. The mileage is up. Your mates at parkrun are asking how training’s going and you’re…
I used to measure runs in agony: black toenails, 5am alarms, soggy trainers and all that jazz. For example, the NHS Couch to 5K plan has you alternating run/walks at “a pace that feels comfortable” – basically zone 2 for rookies. One damp Tuesday morning, jogging my “easy” route along the towpath at 7am, some…
So you’ve decided to lace up the trainers and give running a go. As a UK club runner who started jogging for better health (and got hooked on smashing PBs and new gear), I’m certainly no elite. But I’ve learned one thing: beginner running requires patience. You need to start sensibly or risk a tough…