Part one of Rachel’s birthday adventure

rachelcullenwrites

I’m sitting on the sofa with my legs propped up on the corner part (When did we all start having corner sofas? When were Shackleton’s three-seaters no longer adequate? Maybe for occasions such as this…) I’ve got a large white toasted cheese baguette to my right, which is slarted with enough Lurpak to bake a small Mary Berry Victoria sandwich, and that’s placed precariously next to a pint of instant coffee – none of that posh stuff: it’s usually shit.

I’m 39 years old, and I’m KNACKERED.

We’ve just arrived back home after our mini adventure weekend away – forward slash – Rachel’s birthday “treat”. This was, as you may or may not know, the challenge of completing the Three Yorkshire Peaks as part of the organised Forget Me Not Children’s Hospice charity group event which took place yesterday, the 24th June, also nonchalantly marking my 39th year…

View original post 1,149 more words


rachelcullenwrites

A: When I couldn’t give a Fat Rascal about anything other than finishing it.

‘I think I want to enter into a race again, Gav.’ I said. ‘It’s time to get over the fear.’

What’s the worst that could happen?

We chose the Ilkley Trail race on Bank Holiday Monday. It worked around the delicate orchestrating of childcare arrangements courtesy of two broken homes (sob*) having successfully amalgamated into one complete madhouse**

Regardless, it wasn’t an obvious choice for a tentative first race back since the debacle of the Dewsbury 10k back in February, during which I’d been forced to make the Walk of Shame back to the start after only 1.5 miles of purgatory (before being picked up by the Unfortunate Bastards Sweeper Bus.) That was my last race: it hurt my legs, my Achilles, and my pride.

I’ve written a lot recently about race anxiety…

View original post 1,095 more words


Rachel is on the comeback trail

rachelcullenwrites

If only it were as easy as Jon Bon Jovi purported it to be back in 1992, when I used to listen through my crackly Walkman headphones how he had suffered for his anger and there were wars that couldn’t be won. Shit, I thought to myself whilst screeching tunelessly along to the ruggedly sexy New Jersey-born soft rocker: he must have been through a really tough time – although when I saw him perform live that same year, he did look to have been melted down and poured into his canary yellow leather pants, so maybe that was the catalyst for his angst? (I wore elasticated waist jeans: it was a much easier option.)

Unknown What a spectacular metallic number. Crown jewels, you say?

Keep the faith; keep the faith. Lord we got to keep the faith.

Saturday morning was looming once again, and I’d made the same mental…

View original post 1,079 more words


Rachel on discovering other things in life apart from running and being a Volvo V60…

rachelcullenwrites

It’s Saturday morning, and I’m sitting in bed with a cup of tea and a cluster of custard creams (is there a collective noun for custard creams?) after completing my first Parkrun in over 4 months.

When the wheels fell so spectacularly off my running at the beginning of this year, I knew that I’d gone from a Volvo S60 (nothing too flashy, but extremely good economy and a decent performer) to cruising around town in a Flintstone-mobile. It happened, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. So, I decided to take my arguably small-fry, mini dollop of adversity and turn it into a positive: I decided to Get a Life. I could barely remember what else I did other than running. Where do I go? What do I do? And… why?

And here’s how I went about proving to myself that there was a life for…

View original post 1,023 more words


Another cracking blog from Rachel on the up’s and down’s of life

rachelcullenwrites

The phone rings. It’s Mum.

You’ve done what? Broken it? What the hell, Mum? But you only fell getting out of the bloody car! And you bounced straight back up again. Plus a torn ligament? Jesus Christ. So, what happens now?”

FFS. I’m due in work half an hour ago. I pull over and ring my boss. Satnav enter new destination: Huddersfield Orthopaedics.

Mum went all Del Boy-at-the-bar on me, and slid down the outside of the car in some comedy slow-motion “did that really just happen?” move right in front of my eyes. Once me and tills stopped pissing ourselves laughing (I’m not some heartless bitch: she jumped straight back up and appeared to be alright) it transpired that her knee and the curb didn’t get on. This meant the subsequent three weeks of hospital visits, packing bags, shopping trips, and endless cut & paste “Are you ok?”…

View original post 696 more words


Another great blog from Rachel. A very interesting insight into Rachel’s mindset.

rachelcullenwrites

I was a late starter when it came to the whole ‘Dream Big!’ mantra. In fact, I arrived at the party just as they were emptying paper plates with discarded Wotsits into black bin liners and stacking up the fold-away chairs. But, Agadoo was still playing, so I hung around a bit.

Unknown-2…Push pineapple, shake the tree…

And it’s funny, because even when I DID achieve mini life victories, I explained them away as being a fluke, or a freakish never-to-be-repeated piece of good fortune, or an Act of God (forgive the legal reference.) I never ever took the credit for them. Not ever.

Aged 18:

I passed my driving test, first time. On my 18th birthday – the day itself (oh, the pressure) – and very nearly flunked it. One more ‘minor’ error and it would have been game over. I answered 3 out of 3…

View original post 936 more words

Don’t stop believin’!

Posted: March 19, 2017 in Uncategorized

Miles to go before I sleep

Yesterday, I won a race. Over the past few years, this has been happening fairly regularly and quite honestly, it’s a bit weird. I sort of feel outside of myself on days like this: people are congratulating me, saying cool things about me being an inspiration and a speedy runner, but it just doesn’t feel like they’re talking about me. So while this is going to be a race report, it’s also a bit of an offload about why this stuff means so much to me.

People who have known me for more than about 10 years will know that I’m not sporty. My friends used to call me ‘Dictionary’ and there was nothing I liked better than sitting in my room, reading. Sport at school was my idea of hell. I was a bit dumpy, had no coordination and just didn’t enjoy any kind of physical activity. I mean…

View original post 3,386 more words


Another great blog from Rachel who is on her travels this week.

rachelcullenwrites

THURSDAY

We’re on the plane to Limassol. We are supposed to be running the Limassol half marathon on Sunday – but we’re not. Because I can’t run.

Last week, we emailed the organisers and asked if we could swap events to the 10k race. In this ever-changing sea of ‘revising my expectations’ (the word ‘revising’ being a handy euphemism for ‘lowering’), our thinking is that there is infinitely more likelihood of my running 10k (6.2 miles) than 21k (13.1 of the bastards.) This seems to be a reasonable conclusion to make, and, in line with the constant requirement for me to ‘revise my expectations’*, notice that the simple completion of said distance would be some achievement at this moment in time. We’re no longer discussing ‘going for a time’ (it was only 3 months ago that I achieved my 10k PB of 42.11. A lot can happen in 12…

View original post 2,116 more words

A rough guide to fell running

Posted: March 16, 2017 in Uncategorized

A great read about fell running from one of the best around at the moment Ben Mounsey.

The secret fell running diary of Ben Mounsey aged 35 and 3/4

a-rough-guide-to-fell-running0n1a3599-edit

What is fell running and how is it different to cross country and trail running? Is there a clear distinction between fell running and mountain running?

Fell running is traditionally a British sport that shares many of the same characteristics as other forms of off-road running; cross country, trail and mountain. However, it is unique in the sense that races are so unpredictable in terms of the weather and terrain. You have to be a much stronger and hardier athlete to cope with the environment. Speed isn’t necessarily the key, but rather strength and resilience. Experience and mountain-craft also play a huge part. You need to be able to find the best lines, because often you are running on a vague trod (or not!) between two checkpoints. There isn’t always a clear path and it’s usually safer to trust a compass rather than other people in a race!

The video…

View original post 1,547 more words


Rachel blogs about life without running

rachelcullenwrites

Fri 24th Feb – Rest Days ROCK!!

Today is a ‘rest day’ in the traditional sense. I have no structured activities planned, and instead have an entire day to spend with Mini Me. And I’m excited about it.

I make our days together as active as possible. I’m heading over to her Dad’s on the train early this morning, and taking her for breakfast in our favourite Hebden Bridge café. We love walking together. Even little jaunts from his house to the café, then on to the train station. We love the fresh air and the feeling of movement. Her little legs have been used to walking perhaps further than is entirely normal ever since she was three, when I would power-walk up the hill to collect her from pre-school, and we would amble the mile and a half back down, sometimes stopping on a bench to have a…

View original post 1,667 more words