Run Wales

Sometimes being a runner isn’t just about running.

I still have a dodgy hamstring. It sucks.

I’m not one of these people that has the urge to run at any given point in time, I’m more of a petulant child that wants to do the exact opposite of what you tell them to do. I am still not allowed to run. I’m 30 something years old and I’m being told what to do. This does not sit well with me.

However, the sage (and slightly masochistic) PT offered some words of wisdom. ‘It’s all about the bigger picture.’ I hate to admit it but she’s right. For some, that bigger picture will be a marathon, triathlon, iron man their first 10K or being able to run with their children, without getting out of breath. For me, it’s all about Morocco.

Last year I attempted to trek the highest peak in North Africa, Mount Toubkal in Morocco. I didn’t get there. No matter how you try and sugar coat it, I failed. My head and my body did not comply and I admitted defeat. I’m a stubborn mare so within days of getting back I was pestering Paul (charity head honcho) to let me organise another. So, in May, myself and some other intrepid explorers will be Morocco bound. Sara vs Mount Toubkal round 2. This time I will be victorious.

It does mean that I have to listen to those in the know and look after the hammy in the meantime. But where there is a will there is a way. They said no running. Ok so I won’t run. What they didn’t say was no walking, gym sessions or other exercise.

This last few weeks has consisted of varying amounts of walking but I’ve discovered some beautiful hidden gems thanks to google. I’ve also discovered I’m crap at following directions, I can’t read a map, I have no compass skills and I’m really good at getting lost. Thankfully, I have strava so can always find my way back to the start point.

There are various memes around the theme of ‘run if you can, walk if you can’t, crawl if you must’ so I’m following them. I haven’t got to the crawling stage yet but there’s always an obstacle race on the horizon. I also have an awesome PT who likes to work me to the point of collapse. I’ve perfected my resting gym bitch face and, as I reward for almost killing me, she gives me awesome nicknames like ‘guns’ and ‘badass’. I can live with those.

My head is in a much better place this year. It’s mountain ready. I’m mountain ready. I’m also thinking about getting a tattoo but that’s another story………

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