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Running Like a Girl

Page 18

by Alexandra Heminsley


  If men had boobs, there would be another way. Oh yes.

  Safety pins.

  For the mind-blowingly old-school method of affixing the aforementioned number to your running top. I hope with all my heart that one day they’ll no longer be needed. I keep a small bag in my sports bag at all times.

  Glucose.

  These seem utterly disgusting and completely contradictory to all received ideas on health or weight loss. But running nine-minute miles for four hours uses over three thousand calories, and you’ll need to replace them, fast. In the 1980s, my father used to eat chalky glucose pellets full of sweet orange flavoring, for extra energy. They were not unlike kids’ chewable multivitamins you can find today. It was the greatest of treats for us kids to be allowed to have a corner of one; unadulterated glucose, it sent us into an immediate frenzy of hyperactivity. By the time I ran my first marathon, they’d been replaced by glucose gels—packets of pure glucose in a disgusting gloopy consistency. You have to rip off the top and suck out the grim contents as you run. Invariably, your tense fist will squeeze too tight, leaving you with a spurt of overspill that brings to mind an enthusiastic teenage boy and leaves your hand sticky for the rest of the run. These days I prefer to get my glucose in the form of jelly beans. Even traditional brands like Jelly Belly make sporty versions of their standard jelly beans. These are significantly simpler to ration than the jizzy gels, and easier to carry around. At some races they give them out, but not all. They provide an invaluable boost when all else seems lost.

  Painkillers.

  It is received medical wisdom that you shouldn’t run with an injury or take painkillers in order to mask it. I absolutely agree with this advice. But I have learned the hard way that you can hurt yourself on the way round, or see someone else in pain, and a couple of ibuprofen tucked into a little pocket can make you feel invincible even if you don’t end up using them. It is easy to feel as if you have lost your grip on reality while doing this, but cut the exact number that you need out of the blister pack and round them to leave nice smooth curving edges. A pointy corner that doesn’t seem like a big deal on your bedroom counter can seem like a tiny satanic dagger once it’s been jabbing into your hip through your pocket for three hours. The rest of the packet can go in the bag that will meet you at the finish line.

  Phone/sports watch.

  Not everyone likes to run with a phone, preferring to be reunited with it post-race. I use mine to monitor my pace and distance, particularly as the mathematics involved get exponentially more complicated, the farther I run. It’s the flick of a thumb to check texts and tweets. I didn’t realize how valuable it was until I ran the Brighton Half Marathon and one of the mile markers was in the wrong place. While I was trembling with rage as I saw my stats saying I’d run half a marathon while I was a few hundred meters from the finish line, revenge was sweet the next day when a huge proportion of runners complained en masse and the marathon organizers ended up amending everyone’s times. This proved to me that, whether it’s with a sports watch or an app, you should record your own stats in a public event, rather than relying on timing chips alone. If you don’t want the distraction of a phone, you can switch it to airplane mode or simply run with a watch and/or heart rate monitor.

  17

  The Magical Secret

  We run, not because we think it is doing us good, but because we enjoy it and cannot help ourselves . . . The more restricted our society and work become, the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom. No one can say, “You must not run faster than this, or jump higher than that.” The human spirit is indomitable.

  —Sir Roger Bannister

  That chapter title was a bit of a lie. Increasingly, I am approached by people who want to start running but haven’t, as if there is a magic secret they’re waiting to be told. There really isn’t. As I’ve been told by every runner I admire, from Paula Radcliffe to my dad, the only secret is that there is none. You just have to start running. That said, here are the ten things I wish I had known when I started. As you’ll see, much of it was advice from my father that took a little while to sink in.

  1) Lacing up and leaving the house is the hardest moment of any run. You never regret it once you are en route. (Length of time ignored: one year.)

  2) Nothing is ever as bad as your first run. No other run will induce that level of fear and pain. There are legions of people who believe that every run will feel like that first time. It never does.

  3) Cover your feet in Vaseline each time you run for longer than about fifteen minutes. Not only will it stop blisters—especially if it rains—but it will mean deliciously moisturized feet on your return. (Length of time ignored: two years.)

  4) Running in the rain is not perilous but, actually, quite good fun. It proves the adage about there being no such thing as the wrong weather, just the wrong clothing.

  5) Don’t eat too much before a run. Two bananas and a three-egg omelet are not necessary; that’s just more to carry around with you. You are a healthy woman, not an elite athlete, so you have plenty of reserves. (Length of time ignored: three years.)

  6) There is an extraordinary market in D-plus-cup sports bras that has clearly employed the skills of some of the world’s finest engineers. If you rub Vaseline around your rib cage, you’ll be even more comfortable.

  7) Don’t pay attention to anyone else once you’re out there. They are either absorbed by what they are doing or looking on in admiration. If you can’t do that, get a cap. (Length of time ignored: two and a half years.)

  8) No one cares what you look like when you’re running. Ever. Whether it’s clean, cool, or baggy. Those first few runs do feel as if you’re thundering down a catwalk surrounded by sneering professionals, but that feeling disappears as you realize you just want to be comfortable—and that the rare glance might not be so bad after all.

  9) Stop stealing other people’s running socks, they don’t fit you properly! (Length of time ignored: five years and counting.)

  10) You might enjoy it.

  Acknowledgments

  This book never would have existed if I had never crossed a finish line, so first and most heartfelt thanks must go to those who have been at my side as I did it, particularly my beloved Lottie Lambert, the magnificent Julia Raeside, Nick Brady, and Lila Frei. And of course Sarah Ballard, my immaculate “fragent,” without whom I would have dared to neither run nor write, and with whom I am proud to cross the publication finish line.

  The first steps of any book induce exhaustion, exhilaration, wobbly legs, and a terrifying sense that one’s bowels could go at any time. So beginning a book about those feelings was particularly tricky. Early supporters were invaluable, with their unwavering belief that the book and the exploits it entailed were both possible and worthwhile. Thank you, Damian Barr, Clare Bennett, Grace Dent, Sophie Heawood, Melissa Marshall, Caitlin Moran, Jojo Moyes, David Nicholls, Rachel Roberts, Jessica Ruston, Polly Samson, Craig Taylor, and of course, my ever patient mother and her Olympic-level cheering skills.

  Once the project was up and running, I reached its many finish lines only with the incomparable support of a rum collection of characters who were as consistent with their merciless teasing as they were with their steadfast pre-race cooking, midrace cheering, and post-race consoling skills. Thank you, Courtney Arumugam, Carol Biss, Joanna Ellis, Janey, Urmee Khan, Oli Lambert, Vanessa Langford, Jon Macqueen, Mike Moran, Joel Morris, Sarah Morgan, Kerry and Kieron Moyles, Geri O’Donohoe, Matthew Park, Jack Ruston, Julian Stockton, Jon Taylor, Eva Wiseman, and darling Louis, who provided such inspiration.

  I am indebted to several people for their practical advice and for taking me seriously no matter how many childlike turns of phrase, ridiculous procrastination techniques, or ludicrous questions I employed. They are all masters of their professions and have been friends to me when I needed them. Thank you, Anna Barnsley, Kurt Hoyte at Run in Hove, Debs Hughes, Adam Kann, Josie Mitchell, Jay Stephenson-Clarke,
Jo Taylor, Tim Weeks, and everyone at beautiful Café Coho in Brighton, where I both started and finished the book.

  And thank you to everyone at Scribner and the Zoë Pagnamenta Agency, particularly Shannon Welch, John Glynn, and Zoë Pagnamenta for their consistent support of the book, my writing, and my determination not to have a pink book jacket—as well as their gentle but wise guidance through the U.S. publication process. It has meant an enormous amount.

  Alexandra Heminsley is a journalist, broadcaster, and ghostwriter. She is a regular critic on the BBC Radio 2 Arts Show, and appears frequently on UK television and radio. She is a contributing editor to Elle UK, and her work appears in the Times, the Sunday Times, the Guardian, the Independent, and the Daily Mail. She lives in Brighton, England.

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  First Scribner hardcover edition October 2013

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013018909

  ISBN 978-1-4516-9712-4

  ISBN 978-1-4516-9717-9 (ebook)

 

 

 


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