Injury strikes… so soon – London Marathon 2022


It was supposed to be the Castle Hill Corker today, a 10K trail run around a local picturesque estate. Unfortunately, storm Eunice had other ideas and brought trees down, the event was cancelled so I went for a 10 mile run instead, absolutely stunning weather for it. Hamstring felt a little niggly when I set out but nothing painful so I continued on. At 7K I was feeling good, considered making it a half marathon and decided how and where to extend the route. At 10K the niggle was worsening so I came straight back. Should have stopped.


Very sore hamstring today. It was twinging yesterday but it’s almost unbearable today. Infuriated with myself as I’ve been running for a couple of year with no injuries… Get a marathon slot and the injuries start rolling in. Must stay positive, there’s still plenty of time to heal and train, I’ll take it easy for a few days.


Really hobbling today, struggled for a lunchtime walk. A friend recommended a physio, I call and am lucky enough to get a cancellation on Thursday morning.


Off to the physio this morning, thank goodness. Lots of questions, noticing of a bruise and a good poke and prod later I’m given a set of three exercises to do each day. Probably a torn hamstring, potentially nerve damage. No running for 2-8 weeks. Back next Friday to see if it can be diagnosed any further. Feeling deflated and a bit low. Don’t want to let anyone down, especially the Calvert Trust and all the wonderful people that have sponsored me so far.

Love the little stick men!

Got home, had a look for said bruise, it’s tiny. Teeny tiny – for the amount of pain, I wanted it to be MASSIVE, black and blue, but no, even had to circle it so it can be seen:


Incredibly achy, in my glues as well as hamstring today, hurts to sit, stand and move! Paranoid I have nerve damage which will take forever to heal and anxious not to let the Calvert Trust down. Called the physio to see if I’m supposed to hurt this much, turns out it’s perfectly normal and I was being paranoid.

Luckily I have a good distraction today, off to court this morning to observe magistrates hearings… Turns out their chairs are more uncomfortable than school chairs, a brilliant experience though, food for thought.


I’ve been using running to calm any anxieties I may have, reading/scrolling/trying new (static) things occupies me for a short while but it doesn’t expel any energy or release any endorphins. I found myself aggressively vacuuming before work today, managed to vacuum a small ember from the fire and noticed poor Henry glowing. Quickly moved him outside and opened him up, he survived with minor melting and requiring a new hoover bag. Roll on good news from the physio.


Walked the children to school this morning and was in agony all day. Sitting, standing, moving were all uncomfortable, trying to get to sleep was a nightmare. in my wakefulness, I remembered I’d fallen over in January while trying to drag a branch up the drive, it gave way and I landed with force on wooden boarder, I nearly passed out at the time and the resulting haematoma lasted weeks, must remember to tell the physio.


Had a second physio session today, remembered to mention the fall. He performed the same tests as before then manipulated my pectineus muscle (with his elbow!) which he thought may have adhered to my sciatic nerve – it was a little uncomfortable but I could move my leg much further after – happy! A different set of exercises this time and another session booked in on the 18th March.


I woke up and felt relatively good today, the blue skies and sunshine were definite motivators. I wanted to run and felt as though it’d be possible, it’s off to work for me this morning though. Fast forward a few hours and I’m in a lot of pain after a lunchtime walk around the block. Perhaps the road to recovery won’t be as simple as I’d hoped.

London Marathon 2022 – humbled by my children


My Just Giving page went live today. I came home from work and showed the children (William, 6 and Florence, 4) the page and explained a little about the marathon, who the Calvert Trust were and what they do as a charity.

On hearing about the Calvert Trust and after showing the children the website and some photos, they both went off to the other room and came back with their ‘egg money’*, wanting to donate it to help people less fortunate than themselves. They were absolutely insistent and although I didn’t want to take their savings, I honestly couldn’t be prouder of them and the kind souls they are becoming. Perhaps my parenting isn’t that bad after all.

*When we bought the house, it came with a chicken coop and an old girl which William decided to call Buck-Buck because of the screech she makes. Over the next few months we got four more chickens to keep Buck-Buck company, all lay intermittently, and, trying to teach the children the value of money, we explained they could sell the eggs for £1 a box and save up for a toy they both agreed on.

London Marathon 2022


I work from home on Wednesdays and had been out for a little mind clearing 5K run at lunchtime. On my return there was an email from internal comms:

Sent: 09 February 2022 13:12
Subject: Calling all keen runners – two London Marathon places up for grabs for the Calvert Trust

The email said the slots were on a first come, first served basis. Knowing I’d already committed to helping my wonderful friend, Claire train for the London Marathon, I hit reply thinking if it was meant to be, it would be. Within a few minutes, I’d received a reply stating a place was mine. I was excited, and nervous and felt a little bit sick at the thought of having to raise £1600, knowing full well, I’m not a ‘peopley person’.

Before I could change my mind, I’d filled out the form and returned it with the £100 registration fee.

Over the next few days, I learned that four more people from work had gained marathon places. This was great news, more people to support on the journey… But also, more competition in terms of nabbing people for sponsorship. My people circle is small!

Talking about how to fundraise with a colleague, it dawned on me that my transferrable skills, common sense (mostly) didn’t really transfer into practical skills I could offer for sponsorship. I’ll have to up my peopling game and that terrifies me. This marathon is going to be more than just a running event.

It’s been a while

It’s been a while since I felt the need / have had the time to write. Life has been a whirlwind, my little people aren’t as little, there’s been a global pandemic, we’ve moved house, Russia is being Russia and I’ve signed up to run the London Marathon. Madness.

I’ve chosen to write a little about what’s going on to provide myself with reflection. I’ll jump around a lot, bear with me, it may provide context at some point.

Firstly, the small ones are growing up. My eldest, William is 6 and youngest, Florence will be 5 on Sunday. While I loved the squidgy babies (and knowledge they’d be where you’d put them down two minutes ago), I don’t miss the sleepless nights. William didn’t consistently sleep through the night until he started school, Florence was 3. Sleep deprivation is absolutely a form of torture and, if you look around you, you can see other parents sharing the same troubles. As they grow up, life doesn’t get easier as some people suggest, it just gets different. There are different obstacles to overcome and different scenarios and activities to share, fun and love. Tears, tantrums and bickering too. So much bickering.

The pandemic saw us all sharing more time together, schools and nurseries were closed, I worked from home and, during the first lockdown, George had a few weeks off while working out how to best run the business, alongside heading out as an on call firefighter from time to time. We’re so lucky to live in a semi-rural town with access to a garden and outdoor spaces. Like so many other families, we decided our living space didn’t really work for us and found a beautiful house in the same town which needed some love. We made the move on 2nd December 2020.

The new house was in fact a very old house, built in circa 1836 and made of cob (I spent many nights laying awake thinking it’d crumble to the ground as the rain pelted down). The previous owners had lived here for 30 years, made many happy memories but decided it was too much to manage and didn’t appreciate the new builds that now spoilt their once picturesque views, with more planned to surround the house – building works to start next month.

The new builds don’t bother me at all, they’ve provided us with pavements and safe access to walk the children to school which wouldn’t have otherwise been possible and will soon provide lots of digger action to keep William entertained. We’re lucky to have a beautifully established garden with many trees, shrubs and flowers. The previous owners, to the excitement of the children, also left a chicken coop with two hens, only one made it to our moving date, the biggest black hen which William decided to call “Buck-Buck” due to the shriek she made. Over the next few months, we added four more – Blackcurrant, Snowy, Floppy and Dipper. As their first ‘pets’, the children loved spending time with them, feeding them and even helping me clean them out (although their desire to assist with that chose has faded). They especially enjoy collecting eggs and selling them (for £1 a box, mainly to granny and nanny), saving the money to buy a toy they both agreed on (not always an easy task).

I’ve made countless lists, deciding what should be tackled first – the leaking, falling down conservatory, the cracked render on the exposed west facing wall, the retaining wall that’s falling into the road, the garden which would probably become unmanageable within a few months, internal decoration, the roof, is it sound? During my research, it soon became very clear that old houses should not be treated in the same way as new houses. They’re built with traditional materials, lime, earth. I soon found myself in the depths of old house repair books and online forums, learning about the importance of old houses needing to breathe. Anxiety levels grew as I looked around at modern gypsum plaster, concrete render and non-breathable paint/wallpaper.

Lover of a list, I prioritised according to what was required to make the house sound – roof and render. Finding builders that understood the importance of using traditional methods and having availability over the next two years was near impossible so I’m tackling little things as and when I can. Slow progress is still progress, right?