From the River Valley to the Sea

‘Fancy a pint?’ Helen asks, naughtily, making me laugh. For a moment I’m almost tempted, even though it’s only a little after 10.30 a.m. We’re sitting near the bar at Lampeter Rugby Club waiting for the start of the Teifi 10 Mile Road Race, organised by Clwb Sarn Helen running club and the nerves are beginning to kick in. I’m one of the few non-affiliated runners and, for all my race experience, I’m a little daunted by all the serious runners and club vests. It’s also clear that almost everyone else is younger than us. There are only 13 runners my age or older in a field of 129!

At 11 a.m. we set off on what turns out to be a day of record Easter temperatures in West Wales, but I quickly realise that I won’t be breaking any records in the boiling sunshine. The course takes a very beautiful, scenic route climbing up along the Teifi river valley before winding back down to Lampeter. I decide to take my own advice and be kind to myself. Today’s not the day to go crazy! I run when I can, walk when I have to, take on plenty of water (huge thanks to everyone at the very well-organised water stations) and enjoy the view.

At mile 7, I catch up with Helen. We’re jogging along when Tom, who’s been out on his bike, cycles up to us and we stop to compare notes for a few minutes. Helen sets off and arrives at the finish just ahead of me and I come in at 114 out of 126 runners. It wasn’t my fastest or prettiest race, but, hey, I’m thrilled to have got round!

The next day, Tom and I set off for our first proper sail of the season, ‘at least you’ll be able to sit down,’ Tom reasons, when I’m moaning about how tired I am. The conditions are perfect for a good sail down Milford Haven, but, by the time we anchor, the wind has picked up and there’s a wallowing, rolly sea. I eat half a sandwich very, very slowly and spend the rest of the time whilst we’re waiting for the tide to turn staring at the horizon trying not to be sick. Once we’re underway again, I’m fine! The tide sweeps us back to Neyland and by the time we've put the boat to bed, I’m ravenous.

We pull in at Maccy Ds, something we almost never do, where I fall on my burger like a starved wolf. Heads down, feeling somewhat bedraggled and weary from a long day, Tom and I are concentrating on our food, when the dad from the little family near us wanders over and places something on our table. ‘There you go,’ he says. ‘Token for two free doughnuts.’ It’s a very kind gesture … although it leaves me wondering about what kind of signals we’re giving out!

And finally… it’s a week today since Running Kind was released. Thank you so much to all of you who’ve downloaded it… and if you haven’t and would like to… here’s the link.

"Christine Stovell didn’t think she was the running kind. Running, she believed, was for elite athletes and hardcore fitness freaks. Then, after causing a local scandal, she found herself hiding in her parents’ loft with her two young daughters and decided to try running as a means of escape. That attempt ended so painfully it was four years before she felt brave enough to try another run.

Christine's story takes her from running scared to running half marathons. In twenty years, she’s run through sad, bad and good times and dealt with everything from territorial pheasants to scary loos. Above all, she’s discovered not only that running doesn’t have to hurt, but that it has a great capacity to heal.

If you’ve ever been tempted to try running but think it isn’t for you, Christine’s experience might just convince you that you too can become the running kind."

My First Book Signing!

It’s a fine, dry day and there’s an Italian market in the square outside Waterstone’s. Good for a book signing? ‘Bad,’ says Tim. The stalls are blocking the view of the shop and the fine weather’s keeping everyone outdoors. Hmm, that must be why they’ve only put one small poster up for my event, I mean why waste the Blu Tack? Tim demonstrates handing off the marauding hordes After much refolding of a black tablecloth and a rummage around for some books, I’m invited to take up my position at the author table somewhere between ‘fantasy and horror’, children’s books and a poster of the next author, Bobby ‘Iron Duke’ Windsor who’s signing on Monday. Once Tom, Lily, my lovely daughter, and her partner, Russ, are all sure I’m not going to run away, they leave me to it, taking it in turns to make sure I’m all right and bring me tea. Very soon, I notice a small boy watching me. When he returns with his family I learn that he would like to be a writer. His method, he tells me, is to rewr...

A Winter's Tale

Thursday 2 December Feeling confined in her snow-muffled flat, Ma takes a walk up her front path to take the morning air. As she returns a cat jumps over the wall and startles her. She slips on the icy path and lands heavily on her shoulder. When her injury doesn’t spontaneously heal, she eventually gives in and calls her local GP surgery. In the evening a GP visits and summons an ambulance ‘sooner rather than later’. Around 10.30 pm Ma is admitted to her local hospital. X-rays suggest she has a fractured scapula which will require emergency surgery. She is put on a nil by mouth regime that night and transferred to a larger hospital for an emergency operation. However, she’s picked a busy period for her accident so the operation doesn’t take place. Saturday 4 December The operation is rescheduled for this morning, so Ma’s had a second night of nil by mouth. A CT scan shows that Ma’s humerus is broken in four places. Despite her obviously smashed-up arm, which is in a sling and...

Forever Young

Looking at the blurb for my new Lacura WrinkleStop from Aldi, I see that its active ingredient has been ‘proven to help • Reduce forehead wrinkles by 52% • Reduce crow’s feet by 24% • Restrict 82% of wrinkle muscle activity’ That’s quite a claim, isn’t it? Frankly, after years when my face looked like a lunar landscape thanks to the joys of acne, these days I’m just grateful to see a fairly blemish-free skin. Part of me wants to believe that the wonder cream’s making everything looking a bit smoother and tidier, but, hey, there’s also a lot of ‘aqua’ and ‘glycerin’ in the stuff, too. Besides, I could tamper with my skin as much as I like (and I don’t), but I’ve only got to stand next to my beautiful daughters to see the difference. Ma has wonderful skin, so the chances are there are some helpful genes in the mix, but my dad died far too young of cancer, so it’s not all good news. My dad was a carpenter. ‘You can’t get age from a tin, Miss Chris,’ he’d say when rubbing his hands o...

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