Sun-rising, alarm stopping and Ralph pouncing on the bed, (this is our dog, not a strange man). I nervously awoke realizing this was finally the day to be running 10k. To most this would seem fine; they’d get up, have breakfast, relax and then be at the starting line waiting to battle it out. What were me, Claire and Charlotte doing you ask? That’d be drinking Coke (me and Charl) and Claire; I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a wine hangover….
Two weeks have passed since the run and it’s fair to say the motivation and “love” of running has subsided. Six months previous to the run I’d attempted several times a week to ” run” longer than the end of my street and as my stamina started to rise, so did my realisation that I did in fact have to run double what I could actually do. Some may find that 10k is a piece of cake… I won’t lie, it wasn’t as hard as I’d thought but by God I wasn’t enjoying it. With a blotched red face, the same trainers as last year and possibly an even bigger bum, I pounded the ground with adrenaline and found that for such a worthy cause this lard arse could actually run.
At a respectable one hour and four minutes later, I’d found the finish line upon the horizon, lined with family, friends and Duff, I was determined to run over it lookin’ like I’d not even sweated an inch. By God was this a lie as looking back at ” action” shots, taken by Abi, I’d like to note running is a) not an attractive look for me and b) the treadmill is SO much easier. I’m pretty much aware of the fact that this blog is based primarily around fashion, lifestyle and myself, I also probably could tell you about the jazzy gear I wore to promote sport fashion, however this wouldn’t be true. Running at any level, comfort is required and that’s what it got, with the same comfy T-shirt as last year( and me realising I should have worn pink-dur Emma), old school trainers and Abi’s knee cut joggers, I’d gained the realisation that as much as I love Fashion this race was so much more. With women telling their brave stories, motivational speeches and more. All the way to an 84 year old cancer survivor walking with her wheelchair, this was the time to shine and not only beat my goals but to help such a wonderful charity.
Thousands of women everyday are given the dreaded ‘C’ and it’s fair to say that even for those who haven’t been diagnosed, we’ve all gained a sadness from close friends’ illnesses and found strength in their hope. Each year I vow to continue to race, raise whatever I can and support an amazing and worthy cause because as ultimately cheesy as it sounds we truly are racing for a life (hello cheese ball).
Pre run photo (from left): Claire, Myself and Charl.
The after shot, attempting to look “normal” and not sweaty what so ever.
The badge but defiantly not the end race position.
x Em x