I admit.  I have massive bias for this city.  I studied and lived here for a decade.  The streets are filled with many happy memories for me.  To say I love Liverpool doesn’t really do it justice.  It’s more than the place, more than the people.  It’s the atmosphere, the vibe, an undefinable something that Liverpool gives generously.  It’s a city steeped in history, culture, music – so it’s suits the Rock ‘n’ Roll franchise well!  I am looking forward to the next 21 kilometres.  It’s May, the weather is nice, my brother and boyfriend are both here running with me and my Mum is in the crowd.  I have other friends running today. It’s going to be a blast.

Last year, this same race was something else, it meant something else.  It was my first half marathon.  I had never run further or harder.  Physically, my calves had never ached so much.  Emotionally, I’d never been touched so deeply by simple gestures.  I had never been so connected to the task at hand.  But I had demons to exercise.  The voice that said I wasn’t a runner.  That I wasn’t good enough.  That cake would always triumph.  I love Liverpool, but it didn’t always love me.  Fast food, late nights, skipping any form of exercise… In a way, if I were going to run a half marathon – it needed to be here, in the streets of the city that made me.  I wanted to be remade, redefined.  In the week before I had my signature long dark blonde hair chopped off and dyed purple.  I was 67 kg – 2 kg to go before I was considered not medically overweight anymore.  I was there with something to prove.

This time? Well, I had a difficult choice.  On the one hand I wanted to race this race hard.  I was lighter than last year, with a lot more miles under my belt and I desperately want to run a half in less than 2 hours. On the other hand – I want to share this run with Kyle.  I wanted to play tour guide.  To point out some of the memories.  I wanted to have fun.  There will be other days for racing.

And so, we three, Andreas, Kyle and I, make our way to the 2:30 corral and prepare to have fun.

Mid-run selfies are harder to keep in focus

Sefton Park and in the flow…

If you want to do a half marathon in the North West – I can’t imagine you will find one much better than the Liverpool Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon.  All bias aside, the route really is lovely.  It takes in all the best Liverpool has to offer.  The picturesque docks, the towering cathedrals (yes, like football teams Liverpool has two), the parks, Penny Lane (where Penny Lane is played on repeat – obviously) the promenade.  There is live music every mile or so and ample aid stations.  There is only a tiny hill to keep things interesting on an otherwise mostly flat course.  On top of that the race really is well organised, the medals are very high quality and there are some really good deals to be had at the expo.

You should definitely try this race! Already signed up for 2017.

By now I’ve lined up at the start of many races.  I know the pre-race jitters well.  The nervous excitement that bubbles up, especially before an important race – yes, you Lisbon!  I’ve known race delays, rain, bitter cold, fog, stark sunlight.  I’ve had contemplative silence, excited chatter, boisterous warm ups, ineffectual instructions and been deafened by badly placed speakers.  I’ve been crammed tightly into start pens like sardines and floated detached at the back of the pack.  I’ve seen toilet queues exceed infinity (and rapidly diminish as the race starts) and many people frustratingly fiddling with their GPS watches (how long does it take to find a satellite – aren’t there tonnes of them littering up the sky?).  I’ve been in races with 30,000 people and those with just 90.  I’ve lined up solo, with (more often than not) Andreas and my brother Kyle.

But today is different.  Today is not my race.  It’s my Mum’s.

Yes! We are running the Liverpool Rock ‘n’ Roll 5 K.

My Mum took up running again after a decade or so last year.  I am happy to accept blame here.  It was not an easy re-start though and her training has been plagued with niggles and injury.  There were times she thought 5 K seemed unrealistic.  Every time she got close another injury would befall her and she’d need another 2-6 weeks of rest.  But like with most things, persistence and perseverance and practice and patience paid off.

As we stand at the very back of the starting corrals Mum declares to the two girls we’ve befriended “I couldn’t even walk uphill 6 months ago, now I’m going to run 5 K”.  She is beaming and proud and has a determined glint in her eyes that I recognise well.

For me, it’s not a surprise Mum is here.  I have multiple memories growing up of home workout VHSs, of Aerobic Step Classes, of swimming lunches, of going to the gym and running on the treadmill in the garden shed.  Mum has always been active and strong and powerful.  To illustrate the point – she once by herself, moved a full standing freezer from the kitchen, out the side door and into the garage.  When the new freezer arrived it took two delivery men to move the empty freezer onto a wheelie thingy and they complained about it.  That is my Mum though.  She just gets on with it.  And if there is fun to be had, she’ll have some of that too!

Explains how we end up chatting away the massively delayed start with everyone.  And end up racing against a bunch of sweat shop running company employees in full minion fancy dress!  And how she has barely stopped grinning since we got here.

The race then.  The course follows the best of Liverpool docks, taking in the three graces and views of the Wirral.  The weather was warm enough and as always there is a bit of a wind.  Andreas and Kyle cheer us on as we near 2 K and I am having a secret race with the minions.  Mum can have them I think and I tell her as much.  As far as motivational speeches go, not great, but there is something about chasing down Gru and his band of yellow followers that encourages you a bit more!  We tick off the kilometres and I keep up a monolog for entertainment purposes.  As the finish appears I am happy in a cheeky way that the minions are just behind us.  For my Mum, I don’t think she cared about such inconsequential things.  Finishing the race was the goal, and that we did!  She even made a personal best out of it!  It is truly an honour to run this side by side!

Inhale… two, three… exhale… two, three…

Inhale… two, three… exhale… two, three…

He is a tantalising target in the distance.  A tall dark figure with his jacket tied around his waist.  The jacket flaps around awkwardly in the blustery Liverpool wind but the man’s stride doesn’t falter.  He leads this run and I am determined not to slip away, forgotten in the dust.

Inhale… two, three… exhale… two, three…

We race along the promenade, wind and miles rushing by.  The sun burns off the morning dew and the day is already proving to be unseasonably warm.  I am thankful for the wind and the cooling evaporating sweat on my skin.  The path is straight and wide and in the not too far distance my prey gives me a thumbs up.  I smile returning the gesture and continue to count my breaths.

Inhale… exhale…

My heart pounds uncomfortably hard but my legs and lungs are faithful.  This is furthest I have gone at pace.  My Garmin beeped earlier to tell me I have already set a record for fastest 5 K (25:55) and 10 K (53:03).  I am committed to this; not just chasing down the shadow of my friend, but to see what I can actually do.  How fast?  How far?  I am testing my limits. So far, so good!

Inhale… exhale…

A quick pit stop for ice water (thanks to Andy who dropped by in his car to help us) and the pursuit begins again, but this time I have a secret advantage.  It’s on an incline, and I do love me some hills.  My escapee doesn’t gain much ground on the hill, although he does pull frustratingly further ahead the moment we reach the flat.  Alright then, challenge accepted.

Inhale… exhale…

I don’t gain any more ground.  But it comes down to this.  My body knows this game.  It can put one foot in front of the other.  It can do that for a long time.  And I will not quit.  My focus narrows.  My music blares encouragingly up tempo beats. I am just this, oxygen in, CO₂ out, step, step, step – repeat.  It’s moments like these – where simplicity and synchronicity and clarity of purpose burn bright through every fibre of my being – why I love running so much.  Running is my solace and passion and in this moment, with 10 miles done in less than 90 minutes and still feeling strong, I am definitely riding a runner’s high.  My favourite mantra is on a loop in my head –  I can do this, I can definitely do this!

Inhale… exhale…

I’ve chased my friend along Otterspool, up Upper Parliament Street, through Toxteth, past Princes Park and around Sefton Park… I lose him on Queen’s Drive and end up doubling back finding him just in time for a final effort.  We sprint side-by-side past Greenbank Park and it feels amazing.  It’s a perfect 11 mile training run in preparation for the Half here later this month.  I’ve never run so far so quickly and I am, to use a Scouse expression, absolutely buzzing!

Massive thanks to Nav for the challenge!  This was definitely one of those barrier breaking runs.  I don’t know what my limits are yet, but I know I haven’t reached them yet and I am excited to keep reaching.