A Christmas World of Pain: The Loftus Poultry Run

Something you should probably know about me is I do a LOT of running. I started a few years ago, not for your usual weight loss reasons, but to improve my mood. After a difficult start, it ended up having a phenomenally positive effect on my life and significantly reduced my stress levels. If I’m in a bad mood, I’ll decide to go for a run thus completely forgetting what I was in a bad mood about in the first place!

The thing about runners however that can really irritate non runners is that they can become quite evangelical about running. Google ‘inspiration running quotes’ and you will see what I mean. I’ve selected a few here for your viewing pleasure (or annoyance depending on how inactive you have been of late!):

If that doesn’t sell it to you, I don’t know what will

Here’s my personal favourite for when I’m having a ‘slow’ day:

Remember folks: It’s the taking part that counts!

So when my friend Sharon suggested I sign up for the Loftus Poultry run just before Christmas because it would be ‘fun’, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. You see, I sign up for races probably every few weeks as they always have a really good atmosphere and having something to aim for keeps you motivated to keep training.

And I knew at this one there would be Christmas fancy dress.

You will see from my previous running post that there are some ‘unusual’ costumes which can appear at these events. Jesus was my personal favourite this year. Other than the Santa hat worn at my previous race, I haven’t worn a costume as such for a race before so thought I’d give it a go; it is Christmas after all! So ‘Mary Christmas’ was born. I customised my existing lady santa costume with the following:

1. Present bows

2. Christmas Gift Tags

3. Plastic cake decorations that I’d found in a cake tin 5 minutes before I set off which I’d sewn into the skirt, my personal favourites were Mr Reindeer and Mr Robin.

My_Hastily_Improvised_Christmas_Costume.JPG
My Hastily Improvised Christmas Costume

I drove to pick up Sharon from the main road and found her stood in full Santa costume complete with beard. We got some funny looks on the drive there!

Loftus Poultry run (http://www.poultryrun.info) has been going for over 30 years now and attracts both serious and comedy runners purely out to enjoy the day. On this occasion, I was in the latter category. The race has got it’s name because the main prizes consist of Poultry from a local butcher; when I arrived I saw a series of chickens and turkeys being loaded onto the a table for afterwards (don’t worry, they’re already dead!).

Me and Sharon before setting off for the 8 mile Poultry Run

So after having a quick catch up with my running friends (we are rather a sociable bunch!) we all set off from Loftus leisure centre for the 8 mile mainly uphill slog which is a loop around the surrounding villages. It was a very tough race. I spent the first two miles trying to keep pace with a man who was playing Christmas music from his phone (it can be surprisingly motivating!) and was keeping up with the main crowd until about mile 5. The I hit massive wall. Thoughts going through my mind consisted of:

‘Why is it so windy?!’

‘Where has everyone gone?!’

‘This is NOT fun!’

‘I wonder if I’ll win best costume?’

On this occasion (and this happens some times in races) I just lost all motivation to continue and just started walking. This is highly unusual for me, but I always refer to the quotation below in rare circumstances such as this:

I kept this mind whilst the wind of the North Yorkshire moors smacked me directly in the face

Towards the end as I ran through the housing estate behind the leisure centre, some little girls were stood on the window sill in their bedroom and were cheering me on to finish and shouted ‘Merry Christmas!’. It’s moments like this that keep you going to the finish and I was spurred on to start running again (albeit slowly).

‘Merry Christmas, Mary Christmas!’ Shouted the crowds as I did a last sprint towards the finish line.

‘Never AGAIN!’ I said through gritted teeth to Sharon as I ran through it.

As always however, once I’d had my post race cup of tea, I was feeling rather euphoric and very quickly changed my mind about the whole experience,

‘Now I know what to expect from the course, I’ll definitely do it again next year!’

I didn’t win best costume in the end; there wasn’t a best costume prize but were instead giving bottles of wine away to those who finished in fancy dress. They’d run out of wine by the time I showed up!

Isn’t that reason enough to go back next year?

Merry Christmas from Mary Christmas!

x

5km run with Joseph (minus Mary): A Weekend Review

So following on from getting new hair Friday, I treated myself to a discount massage on Saturday lunchtime then had a lazy afternoon half watching old Christmas films whilst doing my bi-annual filing of my paperwork aka opening several months of bills and immediately throwing them out. My question for beauty salon etiquette; how much do you tip if you’ve received the treatment at a reduced price?! Do you scale down the tip to match the percentage final cost?! Ruminating over issues like this prevent me from fully relaxing during said treatments hence why I tent to put off going! So my afternoon included sorting out all of my old photos and inevitably coming across those of my ex-fiance. I remember that beyond the face-pulling/cheeky grins lies the corrupt mind of a sociopath – BEWARE! I reminded myself in case I feel tempted to contact him again. I went to a friend of a friends house party in the evening but only had a couple of drinks as I was running the next day. My friend had a drunk close collision with an antler light fitting and I decided to put Bruno Mars ‘Uptown Funk’ on repeat as I feel it’s the only song worth listening to, well this week anyway.

Bruno Mars Uptown Funk: My song of the week!
Bruno Mars Uptown Funk: My song of the week!

Those who weren’t feeling socially awkward dance to it with me, one guy decided he would only NOT feel awkward dancing if he was wearing a Bruno Mars-esque fedora. We made it happen. I ate cheese straight from the packet. Put it on some Doritos. My diet has sunk to a new low.

The Dice Players by Georges de La Tour is truly one of the most beautiful paintings I've seen
The Dice Players by Georges de La Tour is truly one of the most beautiful paintings I’ve seen

I awoke the next day and went to my 5km trail race in the grounds of a mansion opposite where I live. Preston Park was built in the 19th century in Stockton-on-Tees (Cleveland, North East England) and houses a replica Victorian Street. It only costs £1 to get in and you can return as many times as you like during the year; it’s an absolute bargain. It also houses a fantastic painting called ‘The Dice Players’ by a French artist called Georges de La Tour which was painted in the 1600s, a few years before the artists death. It’s one of the most beautiful paintings I’ve ever seen and I love visiting it. The way the artist has captured the faces of those playing the dice game is truly magical, I always ask myself ‘is that how they actually looked back then?!’ for some reason. I feel so privileged to live opposite such an amazing place. There was around 250 people doing the race, I wore my Santa hat to try and be a bit festive about it. However, the clear winner of best Christmas costume so far was someone who decided to roll up wearing nothing but sandals and two strategically placed tea towels, and you could only see his race number when he lifted up the front tea towel. I was calling him Jesus but my atheist friend told me off and said I was mistaken as he was clearly Joseph! My question back to him was HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW THAT! He ran carrying a cuddly sheep. What a legend. Anyway returned home after a good gossip with my friend Sharon whilst we ran additional 5km (we are clearly mad) and spent the rest of the day relaxing with the sunday papers…bliss 🙂 To conclude: a fun packed weekend! Bye for now, Claire

My Top Tips for Finding Happiness in a New Place

I don’t know if i’m going to one day regret saying this, but I think it may be a sign of getting old when you see yourself becoming more like your parents but you don’t actually mind as much as you once would have done. Uh Oh. Well, they have much less to worry about nowadays, they’ve not got that much to do (being both retired and bordering on retirement), they are always laughing about something and they don’t particularly care when they say weird stuff.

Yes, the Parental Unit have been in residence. Since I’ve moved Up North, Mum and Dad visit me every few months; occasionally they stay with me in my house (like this time) but mostly tend to rent a cottage in Richmond which is about a 40 minute drive away. The reason for this is because after a few days in each other’s company it becomes apparent that there are too many egos in too small a space. Plus, a few years ago, my father became rather attached to Richmond, so much so that he wishes to move there. So it’s nothing personal. I hope. Despite this, I’ve really enjoyed them staying. We went into Yarm (the local town) and my father bought what will be known henceforth as ‘The Coat’. Let me explain. When Dad (or any other member of the Banton family for that matter) spends more than approximately £7.50 on an item of clothing, Mum exhibits the following patterns of behaviour:

1) She brings up said expenditure in literally every other sentance.
2) She sneers when she mentions said item of clothing.
3) She goes unusually quiet and you can literally feel her thinking about the expenditure and if there is any possible way that it can be undone.

When I bought my Biba fur coat the other week (no regrets), even though she was 400 miles away at the time, she instinctively knew that a Banton somewhere was spending more than the aforementioned amount on clothing. Her left eyebrow started twitching. I’ve since been informed that she didn’t eat her dinner that evening. Where this level of thriftiness has come from no one fully understands. I do however know that my Grandad (her father) painted the front door of their family home the worst shade of pink I have ever since in my life (it stayed like this for at least 3 decades) and he did this simply because it was the cheapest paint he could locate in the North London area. So one can start to understand her extreme dislike of spending money or the general treating of oneself. This has since been transferred onto me in the form of guilt; I felt I had to confess that I had bought the coat before she visited so that she could disapprove in advance without impacting on her visit. There was days of questioning. It will never be forgotton.

Anyway, whilst they were visiting, we drove up to Beamish which is a Victorian town near Newcastle. My Dad recalled that when I first moved up I attempted to drive them to Beamish but we never actually made it because I got stressed, lost and drove the wrong way around a roundabout. I had actually forgotten this had happened and it got my thinking about how disorientated I was when I first moved up to Teesside, so much so I was in a permanent state of confusion for several months desperately trying to find my feet and establish a sense of normality. This memory gave me inspiration to what I would write about next; I decided on a series of quick hints and tips which I have found worked for me to help find ones feet and address this disorientation. The first few months of a new location are a blur of new faces and places (so much so you apparently forget the Highway Code) and it’s important to try and establish some sort of foundation and routine which you can subsequently build on. So here it is, my handy tips for finding ones feet in a new area:

1. Buy your local paper (particularly in the UK). Relying on electronic media like Facebook is a surefire way to not find interesting stuff to do and see. My personal things to find in local media are vintage fairs, craft fairs, gigs and one off exhibitions.

2. Say yes to EVERY invite. I’ve met all of my best friends through acquaintances who have invited me along somewhere & I’ve subsequently lost contact with the original introducer strangely enough.

3. Establishing a routine is critical and leads to greater stability and wellbeing. Every Saturday, I love going into my local coffee shop, buying a sandwich and reading the Saturday paper from cover to cover. Every Tuesday I buy the same celebrity gossip magazine on my way home from work. Familiarity does not breed contempt, it builds comfort in unfamiliar surroundings.

4. Write to your friends. Receiving letters in return are one of the loveliest things to experience, especially if they are on fancy paper. If you don’t particularly want to write to anyone, write to yourself on fancy paper, you can’t but help getting absorbed as it’s deeply theraputic. I read a great quote last weekend which sums this up: ‘An email is a record of your words; a letter is an expression of your state of mind’. I write my thoughts down before I transfer them to my blog, I seem to be able to capture my state of mind better on paper for some reason, perhaps it’s because I grew up writing things down as opposed to typing.

5.Take up old hobbies as well as considering new ones. When I lived in Warrington, I thought it would be a good idea to go to a life drawing class to try and meet new people. I was appalling at life drawing and I was surrounded with people who were very talented at drawing and were rather amused by my attempts to participate in the class. It was never going to work out. I later decided joined a band as I loved music when I was younger and played the piano for years as a child. As this was something I had an actual ability in so it was much more enjoyable and I again met one of my closest friends through doing this.

6. Take up running. Until a few years ago, I had never ran anywhere ever except perhaps for the bus and away from people I disliked. Now, I regularly run between 3 and 6 miles at a time. I started running on my own and totally enjoyed my own company doing this. Mainly because I used it as an excuse to zone out and completely immerse myself in my music collection whilst doing it. I later joined a club and it was one of the best decisions I made. Running clubs are perceived as a scary place but if you find the right one, they become part of your extended family. It is the single best way of meeting new people that I’ve found over the years and you can’t find a better way of both getting fit and becoming more positive in your outlook on life. I know it sounds a bit evangelical but I have indeed become one of ‘those’ people. See featured image for some of my lovely running friends!

7. Buy an Ordnance Survey Map of your local area. In other countries this is the equivalent of a detailed map of footpaths, features of interest etc. The reason for this is you take things like knowing where paths are etc for granted in your home town and it takes a very long time to find them on your own in a new area. A map like this really helps you to find your feet quicky.

8. Write a to do list. Plan things in to give yourself things to look forward to that involve your family and closest friends, even if it’s as simple as telephoning someone for a chat. When you are new to an area you sometimes have evenings and weekends to fill until you establish new friendships and it can be lonely at first.

9. Take time to put all your photos in photo album. The problem with digital images is that you forget about them and it’s really comforting to have the physical images in an album to look at.

10. Relax. Don’t feel like there is a rush to make a circle of friends, this does not happen naturally if you try and force it. Learn to enjoy your own company in the immediate, friendships will come in time and with patience. Don’t be afraid to distance yourself from people who don’t make you happy, even if it means you have more time to yourself for a while when you do this. I’ve learnt from experience that when you stop spending time with people who bring you down and feel miserable then kinder, better friends will eventually fill the place they once occupied. It’s a happy truth.