My First 12k

I guess if you want an express summing up of what I'm going to be talking about in this post then you need look no further than the title. However if you're interested in how I came about my little achievement then please read on! 

I decided after the Great Manchester Run that I need to step up my distance as to be honest, 10k is pretty comfortable for me now. If I'm going to stretch my distance I normally need a few days to build up to it and I usually tackle it on a Sunday. I asked my running buddy Emma if she was free for one of our Sunday jaunts, she's heaps better than me at the whole running thing (she does scary things like the London to Brighton etc) but she's also very encouraging whilst making sure I'm on track and we always have a giggle so it's nice to run with her. However she was about to climb Mount Snowdon so that was off the cards (she did say that she'd be up for a run in the evening once she was back...after completing the Three Peaks...eek), but I imagine she was probably pretty pleased that I wasn't free in the end.

So with about a weeks worth of mental preparation I started out solo on my 12k mission. I was feeling confident, but also dreading getting to that stage where you just feel horrendous and fully believe that there is no possible way that you will ever feel normal again. I normally hit this point around the 7k mark, however as I was hitting each marker after this I was still feeling comfortable. I started to get that kind of  'Eye of the Tiger' feeling you get when you're over confident about the task in front you. Whether you think that the hill in front of you 'isn't that far to the top' or that you can definitely demolish five plates at an all you can eat Chinese buffet, with room for pudding...in my case I was starting to believe that I could go from a 10k to a half marathon in the space of a day. No such luck...

As soon as I hit 10k my body was starting to ask me why I hadn't stopped! My muscles were starting to winge and the two glasses of water I had before I left had long since been zapped up. When Sanya Richards Ross piped up with "you're almost at your target" on Nike+ I felt at my limit and that last half a kilometers felt like another 3, if you've run any sort of distance I'm sure you'll know the 'where the hell is the finish' feeling. 

Looking back now without being tomato faced, sweaty and free of lactic acid build up, it actually wasn't as bad as I thought.

I may not have polished off 5 plates and a dessert at a Chinese, climbed an extremely steep hill or go from 10k to half marathon in one day, but I did get to 12k which is further than I've ever done before. I think it helped that I had a good route with a mix of scenary and terrain. In fact it was such a gorgeous day and so pretty running past the rape seed fields just before Ickleford, that I wanted to stop and take a couple of pictures. However I decided to abandon my usual photo fiendish ways and concentrate on the task at hand.

I now feel like the road to The Great North Run has started...

Bring on 14k!

Thanks for reading!

Holly

xx