Form, form form

 Flickr image from katclay's photostream

I was prepared for the tight calves, the blisters, the familiar burning feeling in my lungs as I dragged myself round the parks and streets of South London. One thing I hadn't prepared for was my complete loss of form.

I could feel my feet flip-flopping around in my trainers as they hit the ground, they felt heavy, I didn't know how to carry them correctly. My back was aching, I couldn't regulate my breathing. It was as if everything I'd ever known about running had been knocked out of my head at some point in the last three months, it's place taken by the perfect pulled pork recipe, no doubt.

I need to do something about my running form sharpish because I can't keep running like a baby elephant. Here's some of the stuff I've pulled out of the depths of my memory:

Head up: I must not stare at my feet. I don't know why, but I've developed a fear of falling over, which has lead to me constantly scanning the ground for obstacles when running. It's also put me off high heels too, which is a disaster as I'm about as tall as Papa Smurf without assistance. Looking straight ahead will improve my posture and will hopefully mean the end of that back pain.

Shoulders down: I remember when I first started running, I had a problem with my shoulders slowly creeping up towards my neck during the run. So now I'm constantly reminding myself to keep my shoulders back and down. 

Arms: It took me a while, but I think I may have mastered the arms. Someone once told me to draw a line down the centre of my body and to never let my arms cross that line during a run. But maybe you can help me with this - is it true that your arms can't move faster than your legs when you're running? E.g. Speed your arms up and your legs will speed up too?

Feet: I'm still trying to work out how to properly land my feet, but I know they should be landing quietly, and I shouldn't be coming back with blisters - it's sandal season damn it. Runner's World says 'Good running is springy and quiet'. Yes, let's try that. 

Hills: Another wise person/publication once told me (if I could remember who, I'd credit them) that the secret to powering up hills is to lean forward slightly, flick your feet up at the ankles and really use your arms to drive yourself up. I prefer to keep my eyes on the ground about 3 feet in front of me too (head up though), rather than at the summit of the hill. Less chance of freaking out and giving up that way.

And that's where my limited form knowledge ends. Am I missing anything? Can anyone shed any light on how I should be positioning my feet? And are there any secrets to making that first 4 miles of a run feel less like hard work?

Anyone for a catch up?

I've been missing my lovely little blog of late, missing thinking up blog posts to make the morning run go faster, then writing it up and sending it out into the ether. But before I start again, I'll explain why it stopped - then we can get back on with the fun stuff.

Unfortunately there's no juicy story behind my cyber disappearance. A rapid-fire combination of life events (a change - and change again - of relationship status; a long-haul move from north to south London; a new job and a huge bout of the running itis) meant blogging was suddenly harder than it had been before. But the good news is I was training harder than I ever had before for the Berlin Half Marathon thanks to an amazing running buddy turned coach who made sure I stuck to my sub-2 training plan whatever the weather (10 miles in the snow anyone?) and saw to it that I ran track. If you haven't ever been to a track session before, let me warn you - you will be overtaken by teeny tiny children. They will burn you up. And they won't even break a sweat.

Anyway, it worked - on 1 April I ran the Berlin Half in 1 hour 54 minutes and 35 seconds - a new PB and 9 minutes off my Paris time.

As amazing as Berlin was, I was very careful not to sign up for another race. Instead, I wanted to take the pressure off and rediscover why I loved running in the first place. Also, I discovered cheerleading, and it's my new favourite thing. Mile 21 of the London Marathon was an amazing experience - if you ran that day (or at Sunday's British 10k), I'm sure you won't forget passing through the Run Dem Crew cheer squad.

Which brings me to my next running adventure - training for the Amsterdam Marathon. But not running it. Here's the deal - my running buddy turned coach is my boyfriend, and he's running the Amsterdam Marathon in October. Because he was so brilliant during my Berlin training, I'd like to return the favour by becoming his training sidekick. This comes with it's own set of (selfish) challenges:

1. No bitching. This hasn't been going very well so far. Note to self: You cannot not burst into tears because I've decided I don't want to carry on with the 5 mile run when there's only a mile left. Yes, that happened.
2. Running when the plan says. That's Tuesday-Thursday, and Saturday. Even if it means getting up at 6am, or going out in the rain/sticky heat when all you want to do is sit on the sofa in your Kigu eating popcorn.
3. Pace. I can't run very fast, especially not for long periods of time. Luckily, marathon pace is a little slower than usual, and about my normal running pace, but I'm very aware of slowing my other half down. Nothing for it but to get faster, because:
4.  No pressure. As I'm doing this to help rather than because I'm chasing a PB, I want to enjoy it. And as I said, I want to fall in love with running again. So I'm running naked (no no, that would chafe) in terms of technology. No sportband or tracking apps for me.
5. Marathon training. IT'S TWICE AS LONG AS A HALF MARATHON.

It'll all be worth it in the end. And in the meantime, I get to drink a lot of chocolate milk. Win-win.