Liverpool Rock ‘n’ Roll Weekend.

This weekend I ventured up to Liverpool on my own, to take part in the American born Rock ‘n’ Roll race series. These races are held across the USA, Canada and a few other international places like Madrid, Dublin, Edinburgh and of course Liverpool.

It seemed to be Liverpool’s 5th year, and although there were a few issues I thought the race organisers probably needed to address (awful long and confusing queues for packet pick up at the expo, for example) it was actually a really well put on event. I loved the whole festival feel, and having entered both the 5k on the Saturday morning and the Marathon on the Sunday, I was indulging in the whole weekend.

What was much more wonderful was that I knew there were so so many Instagram running crew going, including my South West squad, Martha, Daryl, Jemma and her husband, and Matt (who you probably know as @thewelshrunner).

Saturday morning we got up for the 5k, Jemma was racing the distance but Martha and I were going along for a jolly. Unfortunately, Martha decided she’d have a nice big fry up and promptly felt rather ill, pretty much as soon as we started!

We saw Jemma on the return but she was in the pain cave, but it gave us temporary distraction from Martha’s imminent vomiting… it actually never showed itself but there were a number of close calls! However we made it back, where the race finished INSIDE the expo with lights and smoke machines. It was all rather American!

It was such a warm day too. I think we did a really good job getting round. And it happened to be another rather special day with some sort of wedding happening, so very aptly, the 5k medal was a rather stunning diamond ring shape. 

Martha and Jemma had been asked to speak at the expo on Saturday afternoon and, along with our friend Matt, they all had slots to chat about running. It was brilliant and they had lots of people listening.

After the talks we all went off to Pizza Express (of course) to get some carb loading in. Location wise, It was perfect as the expo, Pizza Express, and the start/finish lines were all in the shadow of the hotel. This took so much stress and anxiety out of navigating our way to and from each place. I know this isn’t always possible as central hotels are usually pretty pricey. But this time we proper lucked out and felt very calm over the whole weekend!

After pizza and spending time/meeting with some lovely folk, we all tripped back over to the hotel lobby where we spent 6 hours just hanging out with each other. Talking about running, life and eating MORE carbs in preparation for what would be another hot day of running. This time, attempting 26.2 miles in the heat and hills of Liverpool!

We all turned in around 10 and tried to get good nights sleep.

Sunday morning and pre-race traditions were in full swing. Bagels and Porridge were consumed, Beet It shots (urghhhh) were very quickly downed, things were taped up, plaited, packed into spibelts and hydration vests, selfies taken and anxiety tactics put into full force!

The boys (who weren’t running) put their cheer plans in place and the girls set off towards the start corrals.

Anticipation and the weather hotted up, and we joked, danced and chatted to while away the time until we were ready to start. The start was delayed by about 15 minutes, which wasn’t great for Martha as she’s been struggling really badly with heatstroke. Unfortunately, at mile 2 Martha decided she would need to drop out around 11 miles (or when she could) as she was really feeling unwell. Jemma and I did insist we stay with her as long as we could, but she wanted to get on with it alone. I totally understand why. It’s so hard if you feel like you’re holding others back, and you don’t want to be a burden. I knew it was better for her if we left to push on through, so reluctantly, Jemma and I ran ahead. 


This idiot decided to run in front of the boys taking our picture… grrr

We made a new plan for the two of us (the original plan being we’d be using the race as ultra training so it was never going to be raced) which we readjusted to aiming for 9.30-10 minute miles, and walking hills when we needed to (and there were some nasty ones in that rather hill packed course!). We felt good and the plan seemed to be executing itself well. 

I was fuelling with Tailwind and water from the course. I took water at each station and probably had half a bottles worth to drink, and poured some of the rest over my neck. The tailwind I had in another bottle and sipped every mile or so up until around 22 miles. I also took a gel at mile 2, 8, 15 and 22 or 23. I was really pleased with my fuelling actually, considering it was a really hot day, I never felt dehydrated. I did start to feel a little sick towards the end of the race but it was so warm by then and we spent the last 4 miles along the Mersey in direct sunlight!


The course, as I said, was FULL of hills. They just would come and come and come. Some were ok to run and some were too much on such a hot day. We had to keep reminding ourselves that we weren’t racing this as a marathon, but using it as ultra training, so it needed to have walking and slower running involved. 

As well as the hills, we were taken through so many beautiful parks. I didn’t really realise how pretty Liverpool is until running through these gorgeous parks. Tunnels of trees, fields, flower displays, blossom, streams, ponds and bridges proved welcome distractions from the heat, but also providing much needed shade. 

In contrast, the route also took us up around Everton’s Goodison Park and even right THROUGH Anfield stadiums, however being adverse to football in the way my children are to broccoli, I only really appreciated the cool shade it gave us for those few meters we were inside!

One of the big draws to the Rock n Roll events is the presence of bands around the course. I was actually really impressed just how MANY bands there were on the route. It didn’t feel like we went more than 3-4 miles without music being played to us, whether that was a rock band or simply some dance tunes pumping out of a RnR van to give us a nice motivational boost. Jemma and I really enjoyed the music, having a good boogie as we ran through the different stations, even being treated to ‘Yellow Submarine’ as we ran past the Cavern Club, or ‘Penny Lane’ as we ran up, yep, Penny Lane (which, by the way, was rather underwhelming…). However as Jemma pointed out, we did actually spend a penny there!

penny lane

At the finish there was also a festival and concert headlined by Space (remember them?!) which was pretty cool. You also got to pick up your remix medal there. More on that in a sec.

Around 12 miles ish Jemma suggested we high five at each mile marker. Something that became our way of getting through the distance and encouraging each other. Every mile sign we would slap hands together, which for the last few miles became a hand grab and squeeze….

We’ve got this! We can do this!

The last 4 miles take you along side the Mersey, which Jem and I felt really at home with. We both live by the sea and are both very familiar with running along prom and sea wall for miles. Even so, the miles were hard work at this point and it all felt rather longer than I would’ve liked it too. Not to mention the lack of any shade along that stretch. Between swigs, I was dousing myself with water every couple of minutes, just to try and keep cool. 

We finally diverted off the river path and started on the final approach to the finish, passing the effervescent cheer squad who literally make my entire life in every race, and lovely Daryl was there too. Jem reached back to me but at this point I was battling feeling a bit sicky. I couldn’t push myself any more, and we had decided at 20 miles we could still see this is under 4:30.  We were focused on finishing STRONG; we were tired but we both felt strong despite the muscle fatigue and heat, and the crowd helped us along to the finish line by confirming our feelings. It felt great to hear them shout we looked strong. To finish a hot marathon like that is such a privilege. Jemma grabbed my hand and we crossed the line together, feeling super strong and super proud of ourselves for running such a confident race.

Once again, tailwind worked a treat for me. I’ve had no sickness post race so I think I definitely need constant electrolyte intake during long distances. This seems to really help me. I am literally covered in salt when I finish so I think I do suffer from quite substantial salt loss – especially when it’s hotter. I was pretty pleased with the fact that I didn’t seem to hit my usual wall around 16/17 miles. Not sure whether it was because we weren’t attacking the race as much or if it was just down to great fuelling. 

What was also brilliant was that while we were out clocking the long miles, Matt was smashing the Half marathon and only went and won it! He’s a clever boy that Welsh Runner. 

medal trio

So the MEDALS! Well this was one of the main draws for me when entering this race, because you could get three (or more!) medals in one weekend! As I’m a bit of a medal magpie, this was a BIG BONUS! The races over the weekend are, 1 mile, 5k, Half Marathon and Marathon. If you do two or more of these races (bearing in mind some of them clash time wise, for instance you couldn’t do the mile and the marathon) then you get to pick up a ‘remix’ medal. A pretty cool rock n roll electric guitar, complete with spinning plectrum and guitar strap (lanyard). 

You can also pick up an ‘encore’ medal if you have taken part in the previous year. There’s also a world rocker medal, if you complete two (or more) Rock n Roll events within a year. Basically, there’s a whole lot of swag at these races!

I picked up the 5k and Marathon medals, along with a remix guitar and they’re amazing. The 5k ring medal is probably my favourite actually, although the marathon (and half marathon) medal is pretty darn cool too with the Liverpool Wheel (like the London Eye) as a spinning part. It’s shaped like a plectrum too which is another awesome nod to the theme of the whole event. Both the race medals I got have also got epic sparkly enamelling detail in the writing. They just have wonderful detail in them. 

So to sum up, I had a BRILLIANT weekend. I got to spend a few days away from mum duties and saw some wonderful running chums for much longer than the usual quick anxiety-inducing-pen-shuffle meet ups that we’re used to!

Liverpool you were great. Maybe see you again next year?!



Brooks Cascadia 12, Trail Shoe Review.

Let me give you some background.

Last year, I ran my first ultra marathon. To prepare for such an event, I thought it wise to join the ‘trail shoe gang’ and buy a pair of lugged miracle makers. 

Being a complete running gear newbie, I went for what seemed to be the popular choice and bought myself some Salomon Speedcross 4 GTX.

At this point, the most ‘trail’ I came across was a mile or so across a farmers field, which is muddy probably all of 30 days in the year (but seriously it gets super muddy) and then another few miles or so if I run out towards Reculver towers past my friends farm. That’s literally my local trail.

Anyone with half a brain would know not to buy a full trail shoe for that terrain. But they were pretty, and obviously, as I said, I had NO IDEA what I was doing!

Taking the Speedcross out, I knew immediately they were the wrong choice. They were heavy and stiff, with deep lugs for soft, wet and muddy terrain. I tried them out probably 4 or 5 times, before selling them on to my friend, who DOES frequent that sort of terrain on the South Downs!

So I was back to square one. Luckily I’d read up quite a bit of what people were suggesting as appropriate shoes for the Race to the Stones terrain. Mainly hard packed chalk, gravel paths, some road sections with a few fields and farm tracks. If the weather is good it shouldn’t be too bad underfoot, and the elevation is pretty gentle (but constant!).

There were lots of votes for road shoes, so I decided instead of spending £100 odd on an emergency pair of hybrid trail shoes with a couple of weeks until race day, I would stick with what I knew, and that was my Nike Pegasus. 

Let me just say that we were dealt a plethora of weather conditions for Day 1 of Race to the Stones, but my trusty Nike road shoes served me so well.

Anyway this is a review of BROOKS CASCADIA 12!


Brooks kindly sent me a pair of Cascadia 12, as we find ourselves staring into the face of ultras once more, with still no actual progress on a trail shoe. Whilst I am still to sample other trail shoe delights, I have been rather pleased with the Cascadia so far.

Within the first week, I ran almost 30 miles in them. The first outing was a 25 mile country road ultra-training run, literally out of the box. The second, around the farmers field on an undulating muddy path, with plenty of technical stepping to avoid ankle destruction.

The first thing you notice about the Cascadia 12’s are the quite lively colour options. Ive noticed a few of the more ‘serious’ ultra runners have called for more subtle colour ways, but I mean, they’re gonna get trashed and covered in mud anyway, maybe just buy the least lairy option (there are some nice blues and purples if you don’t fancy the bright pinks and blues). Anyway I quite like the bright colours.

Putting them on for the first time, I was hopeful for a fit that was more like my road shoes than a trail shoe. I wasn’t disappointed. They felt comfortable and padded, with a chunky collar at the heel and cushioning along the insole. These shoes are neutral, and didn’t pinch or pull up on the side of my feet anywhere. 

In normal shoes I’m a 5, and I have been wearing 5.5 in running shoes until these. I decided it was time to go up a whole size instead (Do you know it’s literally only millimetres’s difference between shoe sizes?!)

I had some Brooks Levitates a few months before in a size 5.5, with a normal width. Whilst these pinched my right foot to begin with (which is slightly wider than my left) they loosened off and are very comfy now. However with this in mind, and knowing there wasn’t a width option in the Cascadia, I decided to go for a size 6 to allow appropriate swelling room.

It was the perfect decision. The Cascadia 12 is wider in general, with plenty of room in the toe box. I wear injinji toe socks for any long distances and the toe box more than accommodated the toe splay.

The grip on the soles is perfect for loose terrain. When I tested them around the farmers field, they handled really well, and I felt I had enough traction to boost me over the tire tracks and freshly ploughed dirt. They also felt really stable when I was running miles on  countryside back roads and handles just as well over the tarmac as they did the grass and the woodland paths. I found if stones were getting stuck I could easily kick them out without having to stop and pull them out.

The weather has been dry recently so I can’t comment at the moment on using them in wet/soft muddy conditions, but i’ll be sure to update the review once I have.

In terms of cushioning, I found them decent. Unless you go full Hoka, I think you pretty much know how much cushioning you’ll get in a trail shoe. These are reasonably cushioned, but after 25 miles, I think any footbed is going to feel a little sore. I didn’t feel sore for long though, as I can do after a long distance in a more forefoot striking shoe like the On Cloudflows, which is a good indication of their level of comfort.

I liked the fact that I could feel connection with the road, and although it’s clear you’re wearing a trail shoe and not a road shoe, there was enough movement and response from the shoe to keep me comfortable.

It didn’t feel too heavy, but just the right weight to remind me I should be running marathon/Ultra pace in these, and not 10k pace.


My conclusion of the Brooks Cascadia 12’s;

Style: 8/10

Comfort: 8/10

Handling: 7/10


Hope you found this helpful!




(I was sent the Brooks Cascadia 12’s as a gift, and the views in this review are my own.)




Mum to Marathon, Pt2.

In October 2016, I signed up for Brighton Marathon, because as I mentioned in the previous post, i’d been on the London reject list once more, and I was DESPERATE to get a marathon under my belt. Even if only in training for the 100k ultra marathon i’d signed up for, called Race to the Stones.

However, come November, the charity i’d signed up to run for, Mind, got back in contact to say a place on their team had opened up, and did I want it. I literally had about an hour or two to decide.

I rang Andy and laid out the facts.

“I’d have to raise £2000….!”

“It’s only two weeks after Brighton!”

“It would be pretty BADASS though…”

We chatted it through and decided that, given my luck in the ballot, this may be the only guaranteed entry I got to London, so I made the bold choice, and took the place.

‘How on earth am I going to raise two grand?!’


Oh fundraising. It’s one of those things isn’t it. People are ALWAYS doing it. It’s great, don’t get me wrong here, but when it came to the thought of asking people for money, I was super duper nervous and worried.

I ran through the classic list of ideas, bake sales, quiz nights etc, none of which sat with me. Then I realised. I was sitting on a goldmine of talent and possibilities. I could use my professional contacts in the Children’s Book industry, and round up a bunch of illustrators to donate work to the auction! Draw for your Mind was born that November, and as people started to hear about it, more wanted to be involved.

get your bid on

Over a weekend in February, I think we auctioned off about 90 odd books, art and prints from all sorts of illustrators, and that combined with the donations on just giving pages from friends and family etc, totalled up to around £5300.

I’d love to do another Draw for your mind, but felt i’d asked a lot of people last year, so this year I chose not to fundraise for any of my events. Anyway, I was on a total high. Couldn’t believe i’d totally smashed my target. Now all I needed to do was focus on the running.

Then disaster struck…

I got injured.

Ironically, the very lady who had inspired me to run and train for Race to the Stones, Jemma Lewis (@thisgirlcanrunfar), also got injured literally with a day of me. We both crashed and burned at the height of training. March 5th, I ran my first (and only) 20 mile training run, before my hip stopped playing ball. Physio and Sports massages x a million later, we worked out that because I had weak walking muscles (and strong running ones) when I was walking and feeling the pain in my hip, it was because the muscles weren’t pulling my hip into place properly, causing an impingement and friction in the joint. However, it seemed to just be when I walked, not ran, so quite soon, the physio was allowing me to run.

He recommended that I defer Brighton, and focus on London, which gave me a couple more weeks to play with for recovery. I had a few good runs where the pain was not too much of a bother once i’d started running. This one day, about two weeks away from London, the pain was intense during running. I couldn’t even make it a mile. It hadn’t been there for the running before. What fresh hell was this?

If you’ve ever been injured, you know that the constant analysis and second guessing is exhausting. Unfortunately my injury also meant that the pain moved around, so one time it could be up in my lower back, then deep in my groin, near my hip joint or somewhere in my thigh. I posted to ig in a pretty dramatic way (VERY unlike me…) that this was it. My Brighton and London Double dream was out of the question, Brighton was deferred, but now it looked like I wouldn’t even make London.

BUT all those donations! All that fundraising….


I got in contact with Mind, and unfortunately they couldn’t guarantee me a place for the next year. I could carry over my fundraising but i’d still have to apply with everyone else.

I decided I would give London a go.

I put on my big girl pants, and planned with Martha (@martha_runs), my newly acquired running wife, that we would both start together. In fact, loads of us were injured at the start of London that year. It’s a miracle we all made it to the end!

I’m going to save my London Marathon story for a separate post because I want to write it up properly (only a year over due…).

But this was it. This was the moment I finally went from Mum to Marathon.


Did my problems disappear? No.

Did my kids turn into exemplary human beings? Not a chance.

Was my depression cured? Nope, still there!


Do you know what did happen though?


I realised that I can do incredible things. I mean, I MADE TWO incredible things* from my body. In pregnancy, my relationship with my body changed. It actually helped me to love it.

PND tried to rob me of a new found love for my body.

Running my first marathon reminded me of how badass it was when my body did its thing, and birthed two kids. It took me back to the ‘marathon’ of childbirth (in a lot of ways it’s scarily similar; Loss of bodily functions, crying, screaming, sweating, swearing…) and reminded me that I CAN DO HARD THINGS. How BADASS I STILL WAS AND ALWAYS WILL BE.

I could also run a REAAAAAALLY long way for a long time and survive it. And the hugs from my kids when I met them at the end?

Worth every injured step.




*my wonderful children who are wonderful.





Mum to Marathon

It’s almost been two years since I started on my fitness journey.

I’d battled with Post Natal depression and my weight since my son was born, and despite trying Juicing and Slimming World, nothing quite sat right with me. But I wasn’t really exercising.

Before I got married, I went to the gym 4 times a week and it worked for me. With my daughter, I stayed active throughout pregnancy, using the gym, pool and (infrequent) running, and I was fortunate of a small baby that time around. We had planned to have a minimum gap of 18 months between kids, and as it had taken us 13 months to fall pregnant the first time, we’d assumed it would take a similar time for number 2.

So when we found out I was expecting one month after coming off my pill, we were a little shocked (but happy!). I had a 10 month old, and now I had to battle through pregnancy whilst looking after a baby on the outside.

I was much sicker with my son. I remember M being in the corner of the kitchen playing as I threw up into the sink… thankfully she was pretty unaware at that point of what was going on. Being pregnant the second time is a whole load of different.

ANYWAY – back to the fitness stuff…

I found it very hard to fit anything in at this point. Even though I have an incredible husband, once he was home from work, I’d be entirely exhausted from looking after a human on the outside AND growing one on the inside. My fitness suffered, and my diet became questionable.

The problem however, came once i’d given birth, and the eating continued as if  I were growing a baby. I wasn’t anymore, but my diet carried on the same.

The new mum fog descended, and with two under 2, my mental health started to take a beating. It’s quite incredible what sleep deprivation can do to you. M slept through from early on, but J wasn’t a fan. He was up 3-4 times a night until he was 2. And this only triggered my PND.

I want you to understand how paralysing it is to feel out of control and in charge of two human beings. And how scary it is to not be in control of yourself AND have to look after two human beings. I remember at my lowest point, I was screaming at Andy (poor sod, he’s put up with so much…) and actually clawing at my face. Then looking behind him to see M had toddled into the doorway and was crying. WHAT EVEN WAS I?

I’d known for months I had PND, and had suggested it to Andy on numerous occasions, to the response of ‘Go to the Doctor then’. The shrug off response only fed my doubt of perhaps it was just me and I needed to just chill. Fact was, Andy had no idea how to deal with it, and like most people who don’t understand depression, He didn’t have the responses I needed. This manic episode however, forced him to admit what was going on, and told me I needed to go and see the Doctor. Finally it was the acknowledgement and permission I’d wanted from him to go and seek some help. It wasn’t just in my head.

We went to the Doctor together when J was 6 months old, December 2013. I cried with embarrassment as I explained to her I wanted to die to make it all go away, and how I wouldn’t cry, but instead got so angry I would scream the house down.


She was wonderful, and prescribed me my first set of happy pills.

I wasn’t sure how I felt. I wanted to feel better but this wasn’t what I thought depression was. I’d always been of the persuasion it was black clothes, dark rooms, crying and lamenting. I had a strong view of depression, courtesy of stigma.

What I began to realise was I could put on a brave face. People didn’t have to know if I didn’t want them to. This was the only power I had left. The power to trick them, and sometimes myself, into believing I was fine. Fine with the weight. Doing a great job as a parent.

I took the pills for about 4 months before deciding I didn’t need them. I was wrong, and it took me a while to get them back into my system after abandoning them for a couple of months (they usually take a good month to kick in). I’m not sure when I came off them again, but I reckon it was another 7 months of using them to aid my recovery.

When I came off the pills, I felt I was in a better place. Life had settled into a rhythm and I was much more used to how it felt with two little children. I was able to manage myself a lot better, and J’s sleep had started to settle down too, so I was getting that important sleep my brain needed to chill. However I’d now got myself into habits with eating that weren’t helping in any way. For a while it would take the edge off; wine, chocolate, cakes, takeaways (all still my downfalls btw) but I got to a point where I HAD to do something about it.

In 2014, I celebrated my 30th birthday, and I thought it would be a great way to inspire myself into healthy ways, but despite my best efforts, 30 came and went, and although i’d lost some of the weight, it wasn’t the glamorous turnaround i’d been hoping for.

It wasn’t until 2 years later (and 2 years of failed Slimming World attempts) that I realised, if I was going to do this and lose this extra 3+ stone, it would have to be through the way I knew had worked for me pre children. EXERCISE.

It was just after ‘Lean in 15’ had burst onto the scene and I signed up for another instagram profile, under the handle ‘leancleancooke’. May 5th, 2016, I posted my first picture, a quote saying ‘Don’t give up. Great things take time.’

It was my battle cry, this time I would see it through, I would stick to the plan. I needed to break the destructive cycle for my physical AND my mental health.

Once I had got into the Hiit workouts, and the VERY different way of eating (sw – no fat lots of carbs, L in 15 – high fat, low carb) I saw the weight drop pretty quickly. I lost my first stone within 2 months, and by December 2016, I was back in the high 9st’s. Something I hadn’t seen for 3 years. I also realised for the first time, it was about how I looked (bear with me!) not how much I weighed. I didn’t have scales at home, only weighing myself when I was at my mum’s or a friend’s. This really helped my perception of weight.

Once i’d found a rhythm with exercise, I quickly wanted to get out running again. I knew from when i’d dabbled in running for enjoyment back in 2009, that running helped me lose weight and feel really good. I’d run a Half marathon in Bristol in 2009, and was planning on stepping up to London Marathon (which obviously I got rejected for, and every year since…) but i’d turned my ankle and fallen out of the running swing of things.

Fast forward to 2016 and starting with running around the field at the back of our house, I would complete a couple of 1.7 mile laps a week, slowly does it, building up my momentum and pace. I soon pushed it to 5k, and then I vividly remember trying my first 10k. The socks were old, the trainers weren’t right, and boy did they make me pay for it…


Once I felt brave enough to go into the scary running shop (not actually scary) – I tried on a good few pairs of trainers, but being the secret label lover I am, I went for what I knew best (and aesthetics were important at that point and I didn’t like RUNNING BRANDS) and bought a couple of pairs of Nike Pegasus, which are still my trusty trainers.

It’s a bit tricky to know where to take my writing from here, because from this point, it sort of went a bit crazy.

I knew I was goal orientated so I booked myself onto my second ever Half marathon. But then I wanted more of a challenge so booked onto two more Half marathons, one being my first taster of fundraising, for Tommy’s the baby charity. My Brother and Sister in law were going through a really hard time trying to conceive, and had two horrible miscarriages, losing two precious babies. It felt like the only gesture I could give at the time.

I realised the 3 Half’s were within a 6 week time frame, and training stepped up a notch. This was my first challenge. I was doing something BIG. Something good.

Maybe I’ll do a separate post about them one day, but they happened, and although they weren’t the quickest (you try running around the Isle of Wight sub 2hrs) I felt happy to nail the third in my then fastest time, 1:57!

The only logical step from here was to try and get that marathon box ticked. But instead, I did something really crazy. Having had (once again…) a ‘Sorry’ magazine drop through my door a couple of weeks post Half-Trio-Challenge, I shook off the inevitable London FOMO and booked on to do Brighton Marathon instead.

This is the crazy bit….

When I signed up to instagram, I began following a girl called Jemma. She was honest and slightly outspoken, and like me, she had never run a marathon. But she HAD just run an ULTRA Marathon. 100k over 2 days. I had so many questions.




I spoke to Andy, who clearly in a moment of his own madness, said I should indeed sign up to said ultra marathon, and let me use our (very sparse) cash to do so.

It was the most impulsive, scary and bloody exciting thing i’d done for YEARS.

I was taking back control over my own life. Those years of depression and physical compromise were melting away with one race entry. I was going to do something really huge. Me. Not my kids. But me.

To be Continued…