“if this is redemption, why do i bother at all
theres nothing to mention, and nothing has changed
still i’d rather be working at something, than praying for the rain
so i wander on, till someone else is saved”
Marathon training means eating is important
Carbonara (AT 9:30 AM!)
And the meal to dead all meals; duck breast on a bed of red cabbage & dauphanoise at the incomparable; Eat17
But when is it ever that serious Candice?
It has been yet another week of stunning revelations, sadness, spiritual growth, tiredness, tongue biting…yada yada yada TIREDNESS!
See, I can’t get enough of two things.
Food & Sleep.
If i’m not doing one, I’m investigating the other. And I ain’t even mad at myself. Covering ann average of 25miles per week ain’t no play ting. But imagine my delight (yet confusion) when I hopped on the scale to find that I’ve lost half a stone! I know! From where? My brain? Either way, it proves that science is a funny thing but diets are funnier. I run to eat, not the other way round.
This week was also the week of the Swoosh. Great emails, meetings and friendships have led me to be blessed with some awesome opportunities. I am humbled to be involved, on any level, with such an influencial brand.
In love with my LunarSwift FLASH kicks
Can’t wait to break these in. Thanks to Swoosh for the constant swag!
Finally, I end this post with some RDC love. The response to Chazza putting the word out that my long runs were now too lonely to bear has been incredible.
And so with Dominic at the helm, the LSRCrew (LongSundayRun) has been born.
Everyday, people go out of their way to help me.
And I remain very grateful.
As the marathon looms closer, I m finding this a more emotional journey than a physical one. The breakdown came earlier than expected. And that was a blesssing in disguise. As the runs get longer, my spirit soars higher and that will be my advantage. And even if i fail myself, the love of my crew will get me through.
remember how far you’ve come.
Dark clouds swept over me this week. I hear this is normal when training for this kind of thing. Meh. Who knows. Rhetorical. But this is how I felt about training;
Yep. Hal Higdon could spin on it. I am tired!
The jump from half marathon to full marathon training is not to be underestimated. What would usually be the peak of my long runs for half mara is now considered a ‘short run’ in my training plan. It is taking a while for me to get my head around it.
Yesterday, I had a proper meltdown and rang Dani who quickly reminded me of the purpose and also to not get gassed
“Greatness cannot be carried into the next day. It has an expiry date.”
But I needed to hear that. Previous races and hours of training do not count. I had to be about my business, everyday.
And so this morning, I attacked a ten miler with a smile on my face.
London is hands down, the most beautiful city in the world. Especially when you catch it just before it rises. Many runners understand this and I am always surprised at how many mile eaters I encounter before the sun has arisen from it’s slumber.
My beloved bridge route was extended, taking on all the major ones was a dope experience.
Yeah. That works
The lovely Martin from DoUnlimited sent me over some swag. Not content with lacing me, he sent hella extras for you lovely people;
All you have to do is follow DoUnlimited and then comment on this post letting me know what you plan to ‘Do’ with your running this year.
Winners will be picked at random.
May your Monday be filled with many miles.
“And I’m running away, there’s smoke on my sweater….”
How was your Christmas? Assuming all went well, YAY! If not, I offer my condolences and reassure you there is always next year.
I’ve been in the wonderful countryside running through woods, teasing the dog, eating too much, singing badly, etc etc.
Yep, even he is tired.
Going off on a tangent again FOUCS CANDICE!
So this post is about shoes.
That really has been one of your fave things this year?
First pair of lunar Glides. Purchased after being told I was a neutral runner. Saw me through my first 10k. Scrawled my Dad’s initials on the tounges.
Have since been given to the homeless.
HK slippers. Saw me through some rough times, including being very ill last winter and then escorting me to film that TV thing (remember that?! WHAT A YEAR!)
Nicole Farhi things. Amazingly comfortable. Worn at raves that reek of debauchery and a broken heart.
Second pair of lunar glides. A gift. Helped me train for second 10k. Could do with a wash now!
CHRISTMAS PRESENT! PONY SKIN! PLATFORM. I DIE.
“This card reminded me of you!” He said.
You get the point.
Or do you?
it’s more than a fresh pair of kicks. As a runner, my trainers are a memory bank. They remember every mile, shin split and curse word. They are the ONLY permanent fixture in my training plan. In this here running thing, Its nice to have something constant. Even when your body fails you, those lunar glides/spiders/ eclipses remain diligent, consistent, FAITHFUL.
I would like to take the time out to thank all the soles that have supported my own. Both the two on the floor and the one somewhere in my chest. It’s been an amazing ride.
Experienced runners know that the run up (cheap ass pun) to a race gets you higher than a kite.
Unfortunately, what goes up must come down and the inevitable marathon low has not evaded me. Best believe.
How does one get over running in the best race the universe has to offer?
Dive head first into training for the London Marathon (and NYC, Scottish Ultra and RTW halves of course)
Well that was the plan. No, this was:
And that lil sucker was supposed to start today. With the nice 10k and then hill training with linda’s InclineAccelerators (it’s as scary as it sounds!) But guess who went out last night? Guess who stumbled at the first hurdle? OHMYGODWILLIEVERGETBETTER?!
Fear not. Contingency plans have been drawn up. That plan is on my fridge/mirror/pphone and forehead. I am not willing to give up my life. The two have to coincide. So I have made the decision to shift all long runs to Sunday. I am allowed. I am the boss of this journey. But I am going to let you guys hold me accountable too. This is a group effort. I have a time in mind. And although everyone is saying “just finish” the fact that Oprah finished in 4:15, irks me just a little!
The year is soon out and I’ve been thinking about what I haven’t achieved (pessimist til the casket drops) and got in a proper tizz and beat myself up about it. But then these (found an awesome medal display over at www.medalhangers.com ) caught my eye:
And I humbled myself.
I did not acquire any of those through fate nor accident. I earned them. Like children, I cannot pick a favourite. They all have their own personalities and all those races taught me something. If I’ve done anything this year, it’s put the miles in and cross the finish line in style (usually in just my bra but hey, it could have been worse!)
Talking of style
I KNOW. I KNOW. YOU AINT GOTTA HOLLA, I KNOW!
Copped these at the Reggae Marathon expo. I am in love. We are going to have babies. Their hair will be just as colourful.
Or do I?
Do we get so used to dealing with shit and holding our breaths awaiting the next life quake that when good shit, comes along we unconsciously screw it up because we are not used to it? Or worse, believe we don’t deserve it?
But not this week. I am pretty satisfied with the tsunami of awesomeness disrupting my life right now. Edit. Very satisfied, thank you very much. I deserve it.
I know, it’s so hard to say right? Well not when we are buying another pair of shoes or throwing numerous chocolate bars down our necks but when you start to get everything you got carpet burns for, doubt sets in.
Do I deserve this?
YES YOU DO.
And say it like you mean it, cause very few of us have the opportunity to get the hell out of shitsville. If you are in possession of a one way ticket outta here, don’t let your own crippling self doubt hold you back.
This weeks RDC was such an emotional one.
Glenn reminded us why we can’t take shit for granted. Not a dry eye in the house. Man, he has a way with words.
After a (nice first half, harder second half) 10k I came back to base feeling…….empty.
No excitement, no HASHTAG WINNING, nuffink.
After speaking to Bangs & Rhalou, I realised that I was having doubts. Huge ones.
Doubt zone is a dangerous place to pitch a tent when half the battle with running, is mental. I needed to snap out of it.
With that said the #80MileChallenge on Nike+ (tis not too late to join!) set up by Bangs has been the perfect kick up the arse. I am currently in third place (you can’t sleep on these hoes!) but will rightfully return to the top as soon as I get some sleep!
In other #RunningGearFetish news
My cries for Gyakusou did not fall on deaf ears. Thank you Chazza! Now if only I could harness the same mental powers to get the vapor jacket to swing my way…..
*runs off to make magic potion*
“I’m lyke Marion Jones, wha? Who da **** wan race?”
Its the 20th of November. Hold the press. Jamaica in 10 days?
I am not going to say how excited/nervous/anxious I am. Ya’ll get it. To watch an idea become a full blown dream is next level intimidating. But I called this.
Very tempted to ‘accidentally’ run the entire marathon. Not even gonna lie.
I have only just had the cojones to look at both these things. And praise God they look bless. I can’t put a PB by this cause I will be dealing with heat. I can do all the treadmill training in a bikram room, nothing quite licks the energy out of you like sun from the West Indies (apart from India. MY GAWD. I am sweating just thinking about it.)
I need to big up some folk real quick
This is Charlie. While he needs no introduction, the respect I have for this man is unparalleled.
He took a chance on an unknown kid (me) and the outcome couldn’t have been better.
Sometimes all you need is someone to believe in your ‘fucking crazy’ idea. And he did. And does.
Leadership skills in abundance without the shadow of an ego make him the go to guy for many.
But I am proud to call him more than a mentor. He is my father. He is my brother. He is my friend.
This is Bangs.
That should be all I need to say!
I met B on Twitter. We bonded over our love for real fur (shoot us!) and hate for Uggs (I have since folded, she remains faithful to their demise)
Funny how that fate thing works out because our running journeys crossed more than many paths and I ended up being a part of TBOTR2. Can someone say ‘life changing?’
Since then a sisterhood has developed. ‘Mama Run’ as I like to call her came into my life at THAT moment. And there ain’t a day that goes by where I don’t look up at the sky and say ‘God, you a boss bitch, cause I REALLY needed her!’
Without this woman, this journey is null and void.
This is Simon. Or Mr Freeman as I like to call him.
Do not let the smile fool you, this man is of an elite status who if he wanted too, could just tell me to be on my merry way.
But no. He has the time of day for me. And I respect that. He dropped ‘The talk’ over dinner in Amsterdam and I will never forget his words.
He is my sounding board as I run towards the finish line of the LDN Marathon and I am so grateful.
This picture of him is an exact representation of his character. I can phone him anytime and he answers (even in church!) He reminds me that it is NEVER that serious and I call the shots on this adventure. No one else. I admire and respect Uncle L. And much look forward to the companionship when the training plan goes over the 16 mile mark. Talking of the letter L….
A wee Scottish lass, with a penchant for rainbows and dope typography (ditto, ditto) she has taught me what it means to ‘excel’ and also be open to new ideas. She is a great mentor to me, not just because she swears and can drink me under the table but because she is a fucking demon on the track! (3:40 Chicago Marathon time. Uh huh. Think about that!)
Funny how you can start a little blog and then come into contact with some awesome people. This man is the definition of ‘support’ knowing that he too will train and face the LDN Marathon beast puts me at ease. Watching him grow through the RDCY project and then graduating into a running demi God makes me a very happy woman.
This kid right here. He has cycled alongside me as I took on 8 miles in deep East. He sends me texts to make sure I am eating right. He makes sure I have the latest issue of Womens Running. He is 10! Give credit where it’s due, this lil joker has gotten me out of bed on some really, REALLY hard mornings. And I love him.
Obvs there are a ton of other people. But you will learn about them in due time.
Yesterday had a nice lil meeting regarding super secret activity at the Nike HQ.
Natty, Shameek, Tara, FeFe & Jamie
Hilary & Fe
The energy of this gang is immediately infectious. 2012 is looking to be a big year for all of ‘em. I for one am super excited to see where they take this.
After filling my tummy and having a laugh with the boys, Natty, ‘Meek & myself headed over to Niketown.
You know what happened.
Urgh. Argh. Grrr. Mmmm. Hmmm. Pffft.
Yeah but they look like marble. How could i say no?
And now decisions must be made……
My colleague Filip sent me this video. Damn near had an orgasm at my desk.
Before running, my ‘passion’ was cycling.
When my shins are playing fair, I like to pull her out and go for rides in the woods with lil man. A near scrape with a 468 bus has kinda shut down my dreams of being a day to day cyclist though.
The past couple of days I’ve been struggling with that work/life/play/sleep balance. And its directly put the smack down on everything I do. Couple that with my damaged heel, I have been exclusively woe is me.
My mother is happy happy, hippy. My father was silent, moody and introverted.
I am becoming less like her and more like him. And thats ok. But I have to try and not lock everything off when I’m feeling slightly overwhelmed.
“Babushka, you are a little woman, ok very little woman, with big dreams. its ok to feel like, ‘FUCK, WHAT IS THIS JESUS?! COME GET YOUR SHIT!” Its a dry, tiresome life. Have fun.”
My bestie broke it down perfectly. So here I am, allowing myself take a load off.
Can I live?
That is the question.
In other #RunningGearFetish news, I have buckled and purchased the one thing I said i never would. A hydration belt. I know. Feel free to tell me, I look like a twat. I already know. But with races refusing to juice you up before 5k, I have to take action. I have envisioned many deaths for myself, dehydration is not one of them.
Now while Swoosh are the shit for all other running purposes, Karrimore have the accessories thing on lock. Plus Sports Direct are winning.
Its been a very strange week for me. November has come around a lot quicker than I would have liked and I am caught off guard but the feelings this page on my calendar encourages.
Sometimes I wonder about how different, for better or worse my life would be if Dad was around. He was my sounding board and no one can come close to him in terms of wit and honesty. I have just about stopped getting teary eyed when I see a packet of jelly babies, let alone in a place to admit that he is never, never coming back and no amount of futile praying is going to change that. le sigh.
This week also saw me peel back a couple of layers of myself.
I am in my early twenties and I know exactly what I want. This seems to frighten people. As the retort is;
Pah, you’re so young, live a little!’
I am living. I am living a life that I am very comfortable with. It may not involve any of the radical pastimes my peers are enjoying but best believe, I am getting my kicks.
Hoping to meet someone who understands that. Anyone. Just someone that encourages my version of ‘fun’ that would be awesome.
Yesterday, I was ready to peel away from my desk at work and head to a personal training session. I LOVE my own company and have strict rules about keeping my work life and personal life very, very separate.
But then Tim (my crush) and Adrien (my lovely muse) talked me into ‘living a little’
If you lot have been readers of this space for long, you know who T(o)im looks like! ; )
So I went. And spent most of the night trying to hide from the camera
Vodka and Cranberry, since I was 19.
I was having a great time. Catching up with Adrien was a godsend. By 9pm I was ready to call it a night. So I slipped into my Nike outerwear and tried to say my goodbyes. But then I was roped into a evil drinking game!
Apparently I have a very cheeky face but slide under the radar because I’m cute. Who knew?! lol
Apart from a rocking hangover, I was glad I went. Nice to let the ‘hair’ down, once in a blue.
So, I am slowly learning to ‘have fun’, ‘relax’ and ‘live a little’ but it has to be said, once you know who you are and what you want, remain true to those ideals. Compromise and leave room for error but don’t let the expectations of others dictate the path you choose.
This morning speaking to Jack, he said ‘Candie, there is no rush. Slow down. You are doing too much. You have the rest of your life.’
And thats when it hit me.
I no longer am wearing a cloak of immortality. Once you have dealt with death, the watch you set your life by starts to tick really loudly and you are aware of every second. So it’s like this; so what if I am tired and hardly know my left from my right?! I am living right now. And that is all I can be sure of. The rest of my life is not promised. I have to work with now.
In other RunningGearFetish news:
OMFG. Jamaica swag in full effect. Please, please, just take this in!
once more for those in the cheap seats;
This is weird for me cause shorts are way out of my comfort zone. But, who gives a shit. Really? Exactly
I am not playing. RunTheWorld is gonna be a smash. Cause my wardrobe says so.
Shout outs to Steph for that guest post.
Blew me away. I hope I inspire folk. But to do that? Fuck a PB, I’m sold.
Steph, I am so proud of you and what you have overcome, and it took time but I now consider you a friend. Cant wait for you to be strong enough to run with me.
If this post makes no sense it’s because I am on 2hrs sleep and I am sipping champagne through a really amazing bendy straw.
I cannot with Chaz! This is my personal trainer, in her all black everything. At first I couldn’t take her seriously but then she had me doing squat pull ups on the TRX and shit got real. i would advise not having a litre of coffee before swinging like a horny monkey from gym equipment. I felt like crap. And deserved it.
They arrived! Speedy service from Sweaty Betty and OHMYGAWD why can’t I wear them everyday, everywhere? Pair them with the brightest LunarGlides and a crop top of choice and I am sure you’ll cause a few accidents.
Sometimes the stuffed animals at the bottom of my bed like to indulge in adult activity. I am their owner. Can you blame them?
Of all the things I have left of him, this is my fav. Its a very personal thing, to drink from someones mug. White. One sugar.
#30DayAbChallenge starts tomorrow. Which is why i am indulging in some contraband right now. My abs are very good at hide and seek. This should be fun.
Sorting photos out. Like for real, for real. On disk and tangible memories. This is the last picture I can find where I am not giving the camera ‘Mind your business!’ eye.
It dawned on me (well it didn’t) today that a lot of my marathon training will take place in the dark. Late nights, Early mornings. And those of you, wether breaking your 26.2 virginity or those involved in a monogamous (one sided) relationship , like me, will be trying to find ways to stay joyful.
Find peeps to train with. I already have the boys on lock for longer runs (better company) and girls ready for hill sessions (nice asses to look at)
Stay safe. I am ditching headphones. I can’t anymore. As I up my pace, rapping along to Busta Rhymes is not the most important thing. Wear bright clothing. I need no excuse. And just remember how far you have come to actually be training for such a race. Kill it in training, so you can celebrate come race day.
I need sleep. But first a top up.
I like to shop. A lot. Before this running thing, I was mainly interested in shoes. Shoes so high they would induce nosebleeds and you would lose so much you were pronounced dead on the scene! But as I have done more of this running thing, I have tried to find ways to get my style across in a very ‘monkey see monkey do’ hobby. Many of us at RDC suffer with a #RunningGearFetish which see’s us dropping cray-cray change on clothes that we fell will enhance our running capabilities! Of course thats a lie. But our delusions of grandeur are not all ego fed. Said items do make us feel better about ourselves. And thats the important thing. At a time where you smell like a meat market and can barley utter your name, looking good kind of softens the blow. So, I’m a detective, I like to source out things I’ve never seen before. And even if i have, I then like to get aggy with a pair of scissors (Jamaica is not ready) Below are some things I purchased stumbled upon last night
NikeLunarMax+2 via RRR *sings* Is this love, is this love , is this love that i’m feeeeeellliiiiinnnngggg?! Woah. These remind me of my first ever running kicks. Exact same colour scheme but flyer! Yes, I could bore you with the info on the flywire and new internal support, but i don’t give a shit. They are cute righhhhhtttttt? I am a LunarGlide chick til I die, but I would gladly take this hybrid for a spin.
Sweaty Betty; Adrenaline Capri Bloooooood. How I wish the pic was bigger so you could appreciate this op art tactic visionary shit right here. Coming in at £70 I consider these bad boys a treat, but babe, have all your deliveries redirected to your work and the fella don’t even need to know.
Stella McCartney for Adidas I CANNOT!!!!!! I love Nike with all my heart. But this right here……SMASH! If you are anything like me, you want to wear your leggings at any given time, not just for running. How about running errands in these bad boys? Pair ‘em with them Gucci Python shits (awaiting that sale like the 2nd coming) and watch snake looking milkshake bring all the boys to your yard!
LUCAS HUGH Coming in at £150 each, I sat up for a long while thinking about how I was going to snag an Arab Sugar Daddy with oil money he would like to spend on me. So yeah this is fantastical, darn right outrageous moola to drop on workout clothes. But then, this is me we are talking about. We should always be well dressed, even in our dreams!
And finally, the jacket to dead all jackets. The MOTO Destroyer. I have no info on this badboy. All I know is that I want in. Help a girl out, I beg! And for now, thats a wrap. I’ll keep my ear to the streets/tweets and let you know when you might wanna start dropping new skills in the bedroom and leaving post it notes on the fridge! Perspire2Inspire xoxo