London Marathon

To all runners in the London Marathon today. Congratulations. You are all heroes and heroines! And I nominate my top tune for you: Simply the Best, because you all are...

I watched some of the race today and was green as anything. If I can just sort out this pesky sciatica problem I have, I would love to have a go again next year...

Watching today has certainly reinspired me. And it was soooo great recognizing bits of the course and thinking, I've run along there....

Am still trying to decide which is my favourite top tune - thanks to all who entered!

Will be posting the result on here and on the website in due course, and launching another competition...

Top Tunes to Run Too

If you've been paying attention, you'll know I've been running (scuse the pun) a top tunes to run to competition. The entries are still flooding in, but like Mr Incredible, you still have time.

So if you have a top tune to run to, let me know by emailing me at:jules@marathonmum.com

My favourite so far is: Highway to Hell.

Let's hope for Sunday's marathon runners it's more like a Highway to Heaven!

you can also email to be on my mailing list.

And if anyone is remotely interested in the progress of the book, I have a designer working on a cover as we speak. (cheers, Rob!!), Spouse is still proofreading the ms (He is not cut out for editorial work being not nearly subtle enough with the body blows, but otoh he does have quite a a good eye for typos. I did however have to leave the room the other day when he queried nearly every single word on one page. He is much better suited to what he knows best, ie: dentistry - rather appropriately I am married to Marathon Man), and I am waiting for an isbn number. Once that's all done I hope to get it off to the printer in the next couple of weeks. I'll keep you all posted...

Legoland or bust

As I have been rather busy over the last week or so thanks to that lovely Mr Inverdale, I haven't got round to posting an account of our merry trip to Legoland, which was one of the highlights (at least for the children) of the Easter break. Me, I am soooo not a fan of theme parks, but hey, it kept the kids busy for a day, so what the hell...

We set off fairly early with Pyrtotechnic Builder Mate and his family. Being Legoland vets they knew that otherwise we would be stuck in a huge queue. They helpfully provided us with vouchers to get one kid in free, which given the prices was just as well. Even saving £46 we still managed to spend over £100, and that was just on getting in...

Negotiating my way through the least-child friendly entry gates I've ever encountered, with the littlies, I managed to lose the others when I came out the other side. I started walking down the hill, thinking, buggers! They've gone on without us, before I realised that I was more likely then not to lose them in the vast hordes swarming all over the place. Shades of my start to the marathon sprang to mind, when queuing for the loo I managed to lose my twin sister and then spent 3/4 of an hour frantically looking for her before the start. Luckily as I returned to the entrance I spotted Spouse in the crowds, so we managed not to waste a whole day looking for one another. Which was just as well as he was carrying lunch on his back...

We had a quick look at the models to start with. Now, while I am all very impressed by the dedication of someone who puts thousands of pieces of lego together to create Big Ben (and it is clever, I grant you), I have to say, my overwhelming thought when I saw it was - why???? What on earth possessed the first employee of Lego to say, I know what I want to be when I grow up, a professional lego builder. Imagine telling that to your careers teacher. I dunno, it's all Scandinavian to me...

Mind you, someone at Legoland at least has a good sense of humour. In the London section in a corner, there is a building site, which represents... you've guessed ...it the Olympics site. It's a bit empty at the moment, but I presume they'll be adding to it as they go...

Models duly admired, it was on to the first ride, a rather gentle affair which took us through Legoland's equivalent of Fairy Tale Land, which was quite sweet, and no 4 was entranced enough to be quiet and well behaved throughout.

Which helas, cannot be said for our next ride. This should have been another gentle boat ride around a lake. We had to split up into threes, so Spouse went witn nos2&3, while I go nos 1&2. The boats had steering and an accelerator, and that was about it. No1 was keen to drive, so I let her, but the accelerator was on my side. No matter how hard I pressed it to the floor, nothing much happened. And no1's steering was pants. So as a result we ended up hitting the bank on the first corner. No4 promptly burst into hysterical sobs and demanded to get out. Don't worry, I said between gritted teeth, this is fun... Apparently not. No4 kept up the wailing all the way round, no1's steering improved not one whit, and everyone else beat us home. Not even the promise of lunch was enough to stem the floods, and by the time we got out no1 was saying, I quite see why being a mum is such hard work. At last, the shoe is on the other foot...

After we had lunched on sandwiches provided by Spouse (lunch out anywhere with four sprogs is pretty much out, but at Legoland? It would have been a definite no-brainer), the boys decided they had to go on the rollercoaster. Luckily sprogs were content with boring things like the merrygoround and a big wheel. We had one or two hairy moments on the big wheel when various of the children tried to look over the side. The worst culprit was no4s wild and excitable male twin (he was born on the same day as her). His poor mother spent most of the ride clutching onto him for dear life. Sometimes I am so glad I only have girls...

By the time we had done that and lost all the children a dozen times in the fort, the boys had caught up with us. Spouse looked vaguely green, so I guess that is one experience he won't be repeating in a hurry. Then it was time to go on a version of the spinning teacups. Remembering their previous experience of this on Brighton Pier, when no2 wanted to go faster and then screamed so loudly when she did that she banged her head and had to come off the ride, she and no1 wisely opted to stay put. Spouse sedately went on the ride with the little ones, while PBM and his family flew wildly round, making me very very glad I'd stayed where I was.

The day ended with us watching the show - I was actually quite in awe of these amazing stunt people who kept leaping merrily off a tower into what looked like two inches of water, but I presume was somewhat deeper, visiting a jungle exhibition (no4 and I had to make a hurried exit as she started screaming again), and going to look at the Lego workshop, where it transpires there really are people who make lego models for a living. Can't see that giving you many work opportunities...

Sprogs all had a great time, and ended up knackered. Spouse and I had an okish time and ended up knackered and potless. But at least we've ticked that off the list of Things To Do With The Children...

We got home to two phone calls to tell me that this very blog had been mentioned on Radio 2, which I have to say was probably the best part of the whole day...

More on Marathon Mum

...If anyone out there is interested in being on my mailing list, so I can let you know when the book is available you can contact me on: jules@marathonmum.com

Will be blogging about something other then the marathon shortly, when I have a moment...

However I can't let this week pass without wishing everyone taking part in Sunday's London Marathon a massive GOOD LUCK. Wish I was going to be there again. Never mind there's always next year...

Marathon Mum Goes Live!

Phew! That was a steep learning curve. My website is now up and running at: www.marathonmum.com, if anyone is interested.

I'm running a competition all next week to name that top running tune.

The winner gets a free copy of Running on Empty - when I have them, that is...

The Trials of a Marathon Mum

This week I was listening to John Inverdale on Radio 2 waxing lyrical about the marathon, and asking people to email in song titles they run to. It seemed too good an opportunity to miss not to send in an email about the book wot I have written called: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum.

I was out at Legoland yesterday (of which more later) and got home to two very excited phone messages from my twin sister and a friend to say that John Inverdale had not only read out my email but mentioned this blog. Oo-er! Am gobsmacked. There is a slight problem however, as having heard the listen again version this morning, I realised that he was sending people to this site to find a book which currently doesn't exist. Well it does, but you can't buy it - yet. There's copy sitting in my computer as I write, but it isn't published, and I still don't have a cover. So if anyone perchance did come looking yesterday (and I am hazarding a guess some of you did, as I seem to have 22 extra hits on my blog) and expected to find a book, it is coming and I will be posting details of it when it does. But in the meantime, let me tell you why I have missed the best pr moment of the year to promote it.

First off, I didn't write a diary as such when I was training, and didn't have a blog then, as I do now. However, I do have a very wonderful writing egroup where I let off steam from time to time, so I used to merrily post the mad doings of my training runs. And, dear reader, they were pretty mad.

In the course of my training I: nearly ran in front of a race horse, got lost with my friends' dog on a Spanish mountainside and then nearly got said dog run over; got stuck in a bomb alert outside Waterloo station after a hot and sticky run when I was due for a hospital appointment;nearly lost the will to live on a laughingly called "Fun Run" up the Long Mynd in Shropshire; and tripped over my feet outside my local hospital. This was all took place against a background of Spouse hiving off to India for a white water rafting trip, DIY Disasters, children pooing in their pants etc etc.Quite how I a)managed to keep sane and b)did any training is beyond me.

About halfway through my training it occurred to me that it was so mad to even be doing it I should write a book about it and try and raise a few more funds for the wonderful charity I ran for (Tadworth Court Children's Trust). So I started to take my merry little emails a bit more seriously. However, time as ever being agin me, I didn't always keep copies on my computer. After the marathon I got stuck into various other bits and pieces of work, but then wrote a sample three chapters and synopsis which with my agent's blessing I sent off to various places. Getting a less then enthusiastic response, I put it to one side (fatal mistake) and decided I would have a go at self publishing later.

My plan had been to get going in the autumn. But anyone kind enough to have stuck with the programme here, and read my blog from its earliest inception in November, will know that around that time my old computer blew up and I lost everything. Yes, yes, I know I should have backed up, but the old computer was so ancient I found it damned nigh impossible to do so. I then got sidetracked with editing Taryn's book, A November to Remember, which I have mentioned before.

So it wasn't until January this year that I had time to get back to my own little effort. I then had to go onto my email group and trawl through six months of emails to find the relevant bits of nonsense I had posted, so I actually had something to say in my book. Otherwise it might have been a tad light - not just running on empty, but short of content too...

This done, I then sent it back to my agent as she had interest from another publisher. At that point I still, like Mr Incredible, had time (just). Helas, as is the way of the rather brutal world of publishing, I had a rejection just over a week ago. Aaaghh!!!

So it's back to plan a) then, rather more belatedly then I had hoped.

I'm currently busy checking proofs, have someone designing a cover, and will be sorting out a website shortly.

So, if there is anyone out there remotely interested. Running on Empty, will be coming to a bookshop near you soon , and more details about it, and my website will be posted here when I have them.

You read it here first...

PS A friend has just kindly pointed out that my links don't work. Sorry must have done something wrong and will try and fix it when I've got time. Just now I have a book to produce...

With many many thanks to John Inverdale for giving me the best bit of publicity I could have hoped to get!

It's a Sheep's Life...

Today we went to the farm, with the children's best friends and their dad. It being spring, not unnaturally there were rather a lot of lambs about. Indeed, we arrived just as one was being born. A propos of my recent posting about having babies, I think it must be tough being a sheep in a children's farm. Not only do you have to go the whole birth rigmarole, but you get to do it with an audience of five year olds. That must be really fun...

The first baby was born before we twigged what was happening, but we did get to see the magic of no 2 arriving. Having only ever delivered babies myself it was quite a revelation to see something being born. And as my friend said it was worth coming just for that alone. There was one dodgy moment when it looked as though the second baby might not be breathing, but soon both were snuggled up to their mum in an Aah, isn't nature sweet kind of way. Children all totally transfixed by this apart from no 3 who found the notion of someone putting their arm inside a sheep's butt (I do so love the americanisation of my children) rather appalling. They were also quite revolted by the bloody bag of the placenta dangling from the mum's behind (and I thought human birth was undignified), so I had a fair bit of explaining to do as no 1 is the only one who has a reasonable idea about the birds and the bees. Following on from witnessing a live birth, I'd say now all of my children seem to have got the picture.

Once that excitement was over, and the thrill of feeding goats had passed, the children then had to go into the obligatory playbarn that all these places insist on having. They spent a happy half hour rushing around screaming. We spent a happy half hour chatting in between bouts of reminding them not to leave no 4 behind as she is rather little and liable to get sat on.

The playbarn exhausted, I did a loo trip with nos 3 & 4 and arranged to meet the others outside where the trampolines were. Remind me again - was I at a farm or a playground? En route back no 4 insisted on feeding the goats, and she and no 3 had a stand up row about who held the food. This nearly resulted in no3 marching off, which would have been disastrous as the place was heaving and we had already nearly lost the big ones twice. I managed to calm her down in the end, and we went out to look for the others. We found no2 and her BF in the playground but of no1 and her BF there was no sign. They eventually turned up on a bouncy thing, nowhere near the play area they were supposed to be in. "We thought it was part of the same thing," was their excuse which didn't cut the mustard at all...

We sat in the sunshine while the sprogs took turns getting lost/playing on the bouncy thing/falling over and hurting themselves and generally having a great time. The afternoon you could say was a great success. We would probably be sitting there now if we hadn't bribed them with ice creams.

Just as we were on our way out, we discovered two more lambs had arrived. Unfortunately a third had died, which was a tad traumatic for the audience, who had all pushed off before the happy conclusion to the tale. As my friend pointed out, in America the farm would probably get sued for that...

So we left with six tired, but happy children, all of whom had experienced a little slice of the magic of nature.

Well, sort of...

The day has obviously had a big impact on no 4. Ever since we got home she has been delivering lambs, and most of them appear to be dead...

Vive l'Entente Cordiale!

Twenty years ago I spent a very happy summer as an au pair in Paris. My young charge was four years old and easy as pie, and my employees were a charming couple who made me feel very much at home. I left promising to stay in touch and intending to go back and see them one day...

Somehow that day never came. I left university, got a job, got married and life rolled on without a return trip to my favourite city. I did manage (just) the keeping in touch part, and heard all about how the little girl I looked after was growing up and what the sister who joined her after my departure was like. But, helas opportunities to meet came there none.

Until now.

I heard from my French friends at Christmas. They were planning a trip to London. Great, I emailed back, we must meet up.

So meet up we did. Spouse, the offspring and I drove up to London and took a trip around Tate Modern with them, and spent a wonderful afternoon in their company doing a blipvert catch up of the last twenty years. It was something of a shock to realise that the little girl I remember so fondly is now 25 and getting married next year (how old does that make me feel?), but other then that they were exactly the same as before.

The children were entranced both by Tate Modern and by my friends. They were particularly taken with an exhibit which looked like sugar cubes, and provided a fine maze for them to get lost in. Spouse and I spent the first part of our visit losing and finding children - as my mother says, keeping control of several children is like getting jelly to set.

Our meeting passed all too quickly, but by about 6.30 the natives were getting restless, and quit while you're behind always being my motto when out with the offspring, it was time to leave.

But this time I've promised we won't wait twenty years to see one another again....


Pour mes chers amis, Jean-Luc et Dominique, au memoire de notre petit piece de chance! xxxx

Maniac Mum becomes Marathon Mum

Last year I ran the London Marathon for the first (and I hope not the last) time. I wasn't a runner before I embarked on this mad challenge, but I have become one, albeit an incredibly slow one. I have written a book about the experience called: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum, and am in the process of self publishing it. I am enclosing an extract, in the hope that it will amuse, and will publish more details when I know them...

MARCH 2005
Places to Piss in Surrey

Yesterday I finally managed to run 20 miles. I am just approaching theperiod of marathon training known as tapering down. You build up to twenty miles, and then for the next three weeks slash your mileage so your muscles can strengthen and get bolstered with enough glycogen and carbohydrate supplies.

I have been slowly increasing miles since Christmas, and managed seventeen miles a fortnight ago. This takes me to the middle of Canary Wharf on the map, but I was keen to do the twenty miles as that takes me just out of Canary Wharf and starting on Commercial Road, which is three miles from Tower Bridge, which is three miles from the end... so psychologically a good place to reach.

Anyway last week I was meant to run nineteen miles, but got hit by a rotten cold so didn't run. In the meantime I lost my trusty laceup boots, which I walk everywhere in. This might seem insignificant and if I wasn’t marathon training, would be. But the mantra of late marathon training is that you don't change anything you aredoing. ANYTHING at all. And now I know why.

As I couldn't find my boots I have been slobbing around in a pair of old trainers. Which are too small for me, and rubbed my big toe, which in turn caused some kind of compression to a muscle (lord alone knows which) in my foot. Net result by Thursday my foot was feeling a bit achy. I bunged one of those hospital strappy things on it, and went out running regardless. Which would have probably been fine had I not gone running with pyrotechnic builder mate and Spouse.

PBM is a serious runner, and much younger then we are. Spouse is not a runner and deeply unathletic, but suffers from Male Pride, so had to run as fast as we were. In fact at one point he was ahead, but then I took them up to the downs and he slipped behind. Meanwhile PBM who had been running slowly, upped the ante and we ended up hammering it home. So net result was foot very unhappy, and I could barely walk on it for three days.Yikes! I thought to myself maybe I've got a greenstick fracture, but thankfully it responded to hot and cold treatments.

Then I had to buy myself some new trainers - again should have gone with same as before, DON'T CHANGE ANYTHING, except my local sports shop didn't have the same ones, I didn't have time to shop around, so I got some of same make butslightly different. Am fully expecting blisters as have read in marathon magthat fifty runners got blisters last year from having worn new trainers on theirlast long run. Whoops. That will be me then...

Anyway. The day finally arrives, when I think this is it, go for it girl. First off it is pissing with rain, but I have a fetching rain jacket provided by the London Marathon team at a mere cost of £25 and that actually does the business, so you can run in the pouring rain and remain relatively dry. I decided to break the run down into two five mile sections, followed by a three miler (so I have done the half marathon), then one five mile and a two mile.

The thinking behind marathon training is that you start slow and finish fast. You are meant to conserve all your energies and put on the pace in the secondhalf. I seem to do all my runs too fast at the beginning and lose pace towardsthe end. So, yesterday I thought I would play it nice and slow.

So accordingly, I set off at a brisk walking pace , diverting into town briefly to use the loos in the shopping. This is important. VERY important. Being as you need to be really hydrated if you are stupid enough to go running long distances, but you also need to make sure you have a fairlyempty bladder if dire consequences aren't to follow on said run.

I could probably now write a book on places I have pissed in Surrey - a deserted pathway leading under a roundabout by the M25, a wood on the way to Oakshott which I thought was fairly secluded till I realised I was bang opposite a cottage that I somehow had failed to notice, and various discreet bushes on my many and varied routes in the environs of home. Added to which I had the further complication of women's things this month (sorry boys... look away if this gets too gruesome) - and am likely to have this happening for the marathon itself.

In anticipation of this I have managed to purchase some industrial size tampons,and on my way round develop a master plan in case of emergencies involving an empty raisin box for disposing purposes (amazing what years of dealing with small children does to your innovative skills!). Fortunately it didn't come to that,so hoping the industrial style tampons will do the trick come race day. Thinking it most unfair that men don't have these problems, but then again I haven't suffered from nipple rub ... yet ... so it could be worse.

Anyway - I set off very slowly and go to Leatherhead in 1hour 10 mins. So far so good. I stopped for a drink and some raisins (well I might have needed the empty packet...) and then went for the next five mile section, which took me via Oakshott, Stoke D'abernon and Fetcham via several incredibly windy longroads and more hills then I care to mention. The one coming into Fetcham was particularly killing. But my next five miles was achieved in an hour. Yay! I'm upping the pace. Maybe I am getting the hang of this. Then it was on to Bookham revelling in the fact that it was only three miles - up another long hill with huge houses bearing tacky names like Robin's Wood, and Mon Repos and large lawns - everywhere in this part of Surrey looks the sodding same, I could have been on the road to Oakshott for all I knew.

Bookham came in a blissfully quick thirty minutes though, and I was pleased to discover that the High Street was very short as predicted on the map - unlike most of the roads I run down which seem twice as long as I think they're going to be. Feeling rather knackered by this time, I walked out of Bookham, as I really couldn't face yet another hill.

Then I found myself on a major road with no sign of the roundabout I was searching for, and no pavement, so I ran on grass, with my back to the traffic (very dumb I know, but I couldn't find anywhere to cross). I eventually arrived at thepoint I was hoping to reach, but it was one roundabout down from where Ithought I would be, so I had two more hills to negotiate until I reached thenirvana that is the roundabout at Leatherhead which means I am on the home straight.

By this time every part of my body is not just aching, it feels as if I am about to fall apart. You couldn't even call the movements I am making jogging anymore. I'm doing a kind of slowshoe shufffle, except it's not at all slick. I probably look as though I about to keel over at any moment - I certainly feel like it. So I am heartened to meet two chaps coming in the opposite direction who look somewhat worse then I do. Hmm, wonder if they've run seventeen miles...

Anyway I made it through Ashtead in an hour and ten minutes, but by then I am in agony. So I walk most of the way back from there, and finally make it home in 4hours 35 mins. Current prediction for the marathon on that time is about 6 hours. Oh dear. However, I did run up about ten hills, and am hoping that as the marathon is flat I might be able to limp in in around five hours. BUT importantly, I now feel it is not only achievable,but I will do it. No probs... And I am rather proud to think last year I couldn't even run a mile. And now I've done twenty....