Shorts, Sweets and Serotonin Songs

When the London Marathon emails you a couple of days before the race to tell you that although it's likely to be the hottest on record, the actual Fire Brigade will be on standby to hose you down, you know you'll probably need to ditch the snazzy new tights you bought and go on a last minute, two-day long, short-buying expedition.

I felt so much more nervous this year. I was checking the weather forecast as often as my dad used to before harvest and I didn't sleep for more than an hour at a time the night before the race. The running short fandango would have finished me off altogether if it weren't for the total heroes in Covent Garden Lululemon, who were wonderfully kind as I lunged around the changing rooms in every style they stocked, trusting my sister (hero x a million) to be brutally honest as I tried each pair on nine times. They even gave me a second pair for FREE as a pre-marathon treat! LuluLemon, I love you (I used to think you were intimidating and a bit pricey, but I'm totally won over).

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I have now (and I cannot impress upon you how insane this sounds to me, because in my head I'm still 10, don't even understand how to play rounders and have sneaking suspicion my PE teacher thinks I'm an idiot) run three whole marathons. This one was definitely the hardest. I was tired, hot and slathered in enough vaseline to swim the channel because I was so worried the new shorts would rub (they didn't - have I told you how much I love Lululemon?).

I'd still do it again though! There is nothing like the London Marathon for making you feel utterly invincible and optimistic; a little bit overwhelmed by the wonder of humanity and the power of the mile 19 jelly baby. So far, I've raised £2500 for Refuge - THANK YOU for all your support. A huge thank you to Refuge too, for letting my don that pink vest once more and for the best post-race massage in all of London!

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I'm just going to link (again) to Refuge's page on recognising abuse and this brilliant Woman's Hour programme all about coercive control. If you're going through something similar, or know anyone who is, please listen to it. It really helped me, especially to know that it's normal to still struggle to make sense of it all, long after the relationship is over. One of the women interviewed said, "I know when I left I felt completely inadequate and worthless. I went from being somebody who was relatively confident, to the end of the relationship when I couldn't even look in a mirror." I know that feeling so well. I used to think I might have lost whoever Kate used to be forever. I felt like I was floating above myself somewhere, watching everything through a haze and I had no idea how to get back in again.

Running quite a bit and yoga-ing quite a lot has been my fightback, my way of reclaiming my body and allowing my brain to come home to roost. It doesn't always work, sometimes it hurts so much to just be here... roosting (I feel like I've started a really odd metaphor), but sometimes endorphins can make you sing for joy, or maybe it's serotonin? Either way, it's like magic, especially when you've run 17 miles and it's gone dark because you set off too late and you're thinking it's a good job you know your way round these lanes and that you're not afraid of bats.

I didn't want to write a blog telling you that you can and should run a marathon (even though there's a weird, running evangelist part of me that really, really wants to), because the internet is already too full all that stuff. What I do want to say is this:

There are a million things in this world that tell you your body is not good enough. Whatever it may be, I think everyone should do something that makes their body feel like home.

If you're looking for help or advice about domestic abuse, Refuge is a really good place to start.

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