Badass Mamas

Be warned, this is quite long and it's quite personal, so either discard without further thought or grab a cuppa and hunker down. A few facts: Da...

When I became pregnant with my first daughter, Grace, a lot of people said I would no longer have time to run. I am not sure about anyone else but if someone suggests I can’t do something I have to prove them wrong! So I sensibly entered the Birmingham marathon which was 8 months post-partum.

The walk home seemed long and uncomfortable, everyone was looking (I’m sure they weren’t, I’m sure they didn’t even care) at the Lycra cladded idiot waking along at a slower speed than that of a sloth

In December 2019 just before my last chemo sesh I completed a 10k race at Goodwood and the feeling when I finished was emotional but happy emotions! I was bald bit didn’t give a toss, all I thought was Fk you cancer!

I started my running journey 10 years ago after having my second baby, I literally went out to the local park with my best friend and started power walking, then jog/walking and eventually running! .

I had no idea about pace, times, distances, no fancy watch, not even an app on my phone! All I literally cared about was how amazing it felt every time, the endorphins helped me deal with the stresses of being a young mum to 2 small babies! Literally babies 18 months and 2 months! The time out the house was mine, and I in that short time I could almost be free! (Sounds corny but so true) .

It seems like stating the obvious to say that having children has irrevocably changed my body. I didn’t really listen when friends told me that my body would change. It went straight over my head. Then, in the weeks after I gave birth, I remembered what they’d said and understood. Pregnancy and birth (both times) significantly weakened me. Second time around, it was easier to come to terms with because I knew roughly what to expect. But first time around? Hell, that was a shock. I didn’t recognise my body at all. It was squishy and wobbly and flaccid. It leaked. I didn’t want this body. I wanted the one I’d had before I’d got pregnant. The one that was strong and could run 10k with no difficulty. This one had trouble sitting up without help.

The first day I ran around my garden because I was far too embarrassed to venture out. After the 3rd run I realised I may have to try it though so off I went in my new Nike trainers and I was off!

In November 2014 I turned up to Parkrun with my parents (I was 27 years old and a mother of one)! I ran that cold day, a ran the whole 5kms in a fairly respectable time of 38minutes. My parents would take me out once a week and I would stop and tell them they couldn’t make me run but little did I know this would be the start of a passion (maybe even an obsession).

I can wake up in the morning with a knot in my stomach due to anxiety, I don’t always know why I feel anxious but I know if I put on my running shoes and get out that door that when I return home that feeling has gone.

I came home on 23rd December 2016, just in time to spend Christmas with my family. I could hardly walk, my muscles had all wasted away lying on my back for 9 weeks and I needed 2 walking sticks to get around the house.

Every day, a little more optimism grew and returning to running seemed like a possibility. I got excited about future goals at a time when I really needed it - I was even booking in races while sat in bed in bandages!

The last week I’ve had recurring nightmares and felt panicked at the slightest things.

My flashbacks have been triggered by the smallest things so much so that I withdrew from some planned activities and spent more time at home in my “safe bubble”.